Agony
by one-hit-not-a-wonder
Summary: After the Hulk uses the Infinity Gauntlet to bring back half the universe, Eira (OC) has to find a way to deal with the demons of her past that have (literally) come back to life. As she tries to navigate this new challenge, she meets Loki Odinson, who, as it turns out, has far more in common with her than she expects.


DISCLAIMER: All of Marvel's characters rightfully belong to them; I don't own the characters

Prologue

I glanced out the window of the small diner at the street as I took the first sip of my steaming coffee. My face scrunched up, not because of the heat, but because of the bitter taste of the plain black coffee. I always forgot how much I despised the drink, even if it always woke me up. I stirred in a packet of sugar and from out of the corner of my eye, I saw a car hurtling toward the sidewalk. All at once, everything spun into focus, slow and distorted around me, yet terribly loud at the same time. I dropped my cup an inch above the table, and the scalding liquid splashed up on my bare forearms and lap, but the heat didn't even register. Power crackled out from my chest into my arms as I held them up in front of me in a shield, and I forced all the metal in the car to stop the vehicle only a foot outside my booth's window.

Several screams came from all around the diner, and a waitress dropped a tray, sending half a dozen glasses to shatter on the floor. In a second, I was half-standing, and the knife from the silverware I'd been given was firmly in my palm despite the chaos unfolding around me. I didn't realize the screams weren't from the car or some other invisible threat until I watched a man materialize in the seat across from me.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked me.

"Who are you?" I returned.

"They're back," a woman behind me whispered. "The Vanished are back."

My jaw slackened. "Oh my god."

I sprung up from the booth, carefully sidestepped the spilled drinks on the floor, and handed the cashier up front a five dollar bill without bothering to get change back. I had someone I needed to call, and I sure as hell was not going to make the call around all these people.

I walked quickly down a sidewalk in the opposite direction of the car that had ran up on it, trying to find an empty alley or somewhere that wasn't crowded when a realization caused me to stumble to a stop.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," I cursed, and I started sprinting, not caring who heard me. With what had just happened, I'm sure I was only saying what everyone was thinking.

Finally, I reached a parking garage, and I took the stairs two-at-a-time to get up to the level my car was on. I wasted no time in simultaneously pulling out of the parking space and also calling Natasha Romanoff. No answer. I called her again, but to no avail. Rhodey or Steve didn't answer either.

"It's okay," I told myself. "They're allowed not to answer. It's fine. I'm sure they're fine."

But I just couldn't get a voicemail Nat had left me a few days ago out of my head. She'd told me she loved and missed me. I missed her too; it was just that the message was unprompted. And giving a goodbye-type message like that seemed just like the type of mission she might send if she were about to risk her life to get back what half the universe lost.

I plugged in a destination to the GPS on my phone. To get to the rural land in Northeast Colorado, it would take me five hours by car, which was my best option at that point. I turned on the radio to a random news station because just about every station would be talking about the reversal of the Decimation. I was right.

"-looking for answers as to how everybody was brought back. Scientists are reporting a massive wave of radiation, identical to the wave seen after Thanos triggered the Decimation in Wakanda," a news reporter announced. "The radiation's source has been located to upstate New York, by the Hudson River, leading many to believe the reversal of the initial tragedy was triggered by the Avengers in the Avengers facility. Additionally, a massive ship has been reported to have appeared in the airspace above the Avengers facility only a minute or so after the second wave occurred. Many are saying they believe the Infinity Stones were used again, though there is currently much argument against this due to the fact that the Stones were obliterated shortly after the Decimation."

My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I gritted my teeth until my jaw and gums hurt. A panicky feeling burned in my chest, making me all too aware of the danger Nat was probably in or had been in just before the second wave.

I turned down the radio and called Nat again, but this time, I left a voicemail.

"Hey Nat, it's Eira. So I guess all the Vanished have returned, and it sounds like you, as well as the other Avengers, were behind it. Would have been nice to know you and the gang were back together, but you know, I've got to pick my battles. Please just… tell me you're safe. I know you're probably busy right now, but just a five second phone call would be greatly appreciated right now. And not that you need to worry about this right now, but I have another major concern right now. So, obviously you remember when we infiltrated Outlier's main facility and well, I destroyed everything there, but we took them down after the Decimation occurred, which means that half of Outlier's agents just came back. If they're back, they'll try to get back on their feet as soon as possible, and they'll move on from me as being their enslaved assassin to the younger genetically-modified kids they have. I don't need to explain why that is an issue-sorry, I'm rambling. Anyway, I'm driving to the old Outlier compound right now because that's where most of the Vanished agents will be. I just hope I'm not too late. And before you yell at me for going there alone, let me just say that I will keep my distance if I see any signs of activity. I want to be captured by them even less than you do. Please call me when you can; I know you're probably busy with other things. This just - this seems pretty fucking important, so call back soon. Love you, and please be safe. Bye."

Four hours later, an official statement was delivered on surely every news station.

I recognized Steve Rogers' voice over the radio, and I tuned in even further, desperate for any news from someone like this: "Today the Avengers made an attempt to recover the Infinity Stones and bring back everybody who was killed in the Snap. We were successful in this, but at a cost. In order to retrieve one of the Stones, one of the Avengers was - Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff sacrificed herself."

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision so much I had to pull over the car. I gasped for air through my tightened airway, but the air just wouldn't come.

Steve's announcement had choked him up, too, but he continued, "It was only through her sacrifice that the Hulk was able to wear and use our own Gauntlet, manufactured by Tony Stark, to bring back the Vanished. We obtained the Stones by time travel-"

Time travel? What the fuck?

"-and Thanos of 2014 and his army were able to travel to the present day. The Avengers, the forces of Wakanda, the Asgardians, and a select group of aliens were able to hold back Thanos's army until Tony Stark-Iron Man-realized there was only one way to stop them. Iron Man used the Gauntlet to rid Thanos and his army from the universe, for the ultimate price of Tony Stark's own life."

The last hour of the drive was the longest and loneliest. My chest ached for Nat and out of worry about Outlier. So much could go wrong. Hell, so much could have already gone wrong.

Finally, I pulled up the lonely road to the former, yet now-obliterated Outlier compound. The compound was hidden underground beneath a few crop fields in the middle of nowhere, and my heart clenched as I drove closer and closer. I rode over the fresh tire tracks on the dust-covered roads coming from the old compound. After taking a bracing breath, I convinced myself to get out of the car, and I slowly walked to the entrance, but the sight in front of me stopped me in my tracks.

The entrance should have been grown over with the weeds around it, but the trapdoor leading to the surface was barren of any plants. Dozens-no, hundreds-of footprints had trampled the ground and plants.

Fuck.

I carefully lifted the trapdoor, and the smell that hit me almost made me go back. But I pulled my shirt over my nose, turned on my flashlight, and crept down the staircase into the building. I silently passed the decomposing bodies littering the ground, and I wandered through the ashy halls and tunnels of warped metal. No one was there. It was completely empty, void of human life. The Outlier agents who'd died in the Snap were alive but nowhere to be seen, running around the world somewhere, free to wreak havoc on anyone.

I left with my heart heavier than it had been when I'd arrived, but I was relieved to get out of the building I'd been raised in and learned of the deaths of my siblings in. I could practically see Faraji, my closest brother, running through the hallways with me, but I turned away, banishing the thought from my mind. I'd had enough sadness for one day.

As I emerged from the compound, I heard the whirring of helicopter blades, and I glanced up at the sky. The all-black helicopter was low to the ground, only a couple hundred feet above me, and I knew who it belonged to as soon as I saw it.

Outlier.

The pure, undiluted fear running down my spine sent me running for my car, but the helicopter landed before I could make it there. Out of the chopper jumped five people in black military uniforms, all holding guns in their arms.

They surrounded me, their rifles pointed at me as they waited for a signal, but I waved my hand, and their guns were torn from their grasps. I threw the guns up into the slowing helicopter blades, and when the rifles hit them with a terrible metal clang, they were strewn all over. Much to my satisfaction, one of the helicopter's blades was dented; it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Because of their black helmets, I couldn't see the soldiers' faces, but I could tell from how they kept looking back to the blades and their broken guns that I'd caught them off guard. One of the soldiers snapped back into action, however, and he grabbed a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it in my direction.

I made a flicking motion with my hand, and the grenade was slung back at the soldier who'd thrown it. But instead of hitting just the one solder, it exploded above all of them. I clapped my hands over my ears though it did little to block out the noise of the blast. My ears rang dully, and I walked toward them slowly to see if any had survived.

In spite of their high-grade armor, only one was alive. I guessed the grenade was more lethal than the armor was safe. I tried not to focus on the survivor's wounds that matched most of the others', but it was damn near impossible not to. A piece of shrapnel had shredded his armor and lodged in his stomach. His exposed skin was slick with blood, but I could tell that although the injury wouldn't kill him right away, he would die, and it would be painful.

I bent over him and carefully removed his helmet, and he blinked up at me with disoriented eyes. I kneeled on the dirt next to him and tried to comfort him. I knew it probably wasn't his fault that he had gotten involved with Outlier; indoctrination captured more people than mercenary money did, but I knew Outlier had turned him ruthless either way. Even knowing all of this, I decided to take mercy on him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him as I urged one of his back-up cases of ammunition to my hand.

I didn't know if he heard me or not, but he began to whimper. I opened the case, and I took out a single bullet. I let go of the bullet and forced it to bury itself in his forehead.

I bit back a sob at what I'd had to do to him and all the other soldiers, but as I looked over all their bodies, I knew I was in a war that had begun the moment they came back.

I closed the container and placed it next to his body before standing up. After several moments, I walked back to the helicopter where the pilot was waiting. He was desperately trying to get more than a few feet off the ground, but the broken blade wasn't letting him get much of anywhere. I made two fists with my hand and shoved the helicopter to the ground. With a wave of my hand, I ripped the door behind the pilot off its hinges, and I climbed inside.

He looked at me as he unbuckled, trying to get away, but leading with the metal clasps of his buckle, I wrapped them around him. He was strapped securely to the seat, and began talking frantically to someone using his earpiece until I grabbed it from him. I held it up to my own ear and said, "I'm sure you know where we are, but you have a mess to clean up. I'd recommend you get here before anyone else sees it."

I crushed the earpiece in my palm and dropped the fragments on the floor of the chopper. Then I punched him right in the jaw, knocking him out cold. I shoved him out of the helicopter, dragged him back to my car, moved my luggage from the trunk to the backseat, and managed to stuff him in the trunk.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hesitantly called Steve Rogers. I'm sure he'd been through hell today, but he at least needed to know the situation.

"Eira?" the voice of a weary man answered.

"I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but we've got a problem. Outlier's back."

Chapter One

After two-and-a-half days of driving, I was able to park somewhere that wasn't fast food, a gas station, or a rest stop. I was done with carefully monitoring my speed limit so I wouldn't be pulled over and maybe get caught for who was locked in my trunk. I got out slowly, exhaustion creeping up on me.

As I slammed my car door shut, thunder shook the ground, and I looked up to see dark storm clouds gather from a clear sky over the cabin I'd parked behind. Out of the storm burst several bolts of lightning, illuminating the sky. It only lasted a few moments before the lightning retreated into the clouds, and the sky was a bright blue once more.

That random bolt of lightning seemed too familiar, and I ran around the side of the cabin. All that was there was a patch of burnt grass and a tall man holding a child on his shoulders.

_Steve._

"What was that?" I blurted out.

Steve turned, and the girl on his shoulders laughed at the sudden turn. "Eira," he smiled. "I didn't think you'd be here for a couple hours."

He set down the girl, and we hugged briefly.

"Yeah, well, I was getting kinda done with my... passenger." _Prisoner_ was the word on my lips, but I caught myself. Somehow I doubted Mr. Star-Spangled-Banner would approve of that. I wasn't exactly following the law. "But you want to tell me what that blast of lightning was?"

"Thor. He was about to leave back to New Asgard, but we received a distress signal, and he rushed off. He seemed really excited and left without much of an explanation, at least, not one that made sense," he said, looking me over. "It's nothing to worry about."

He gestured to my hands that were balled up into fists, the occasional spark popping out from in between my fingers. I hadn't even noticed-not that I could feel the little burning sensations anyway.

"Oh, sorry," I avoided his gaze as I wrung my hands violently until they stopped sparking. I crossed my arms stiffly. "It was just… the lightning seemed too unnatural, and I thought… never mind…," I cut myself off, remembering the little girl in front of me. She didn't need to know what I'd come here about.

"Eira, it's okay," he told me, reaching his arm out to clasp my shoulder, and I had to force myself not to jerk away.

"It will be. Speaking of which, is your contact here?"

Steve had told me there was someone I needed to talk to when I'd called him a few days ago, someone he'd said I could count on to be here-the Stark family cabin-after the funeral.

"Yeah, he's inside," he said, jerking a thumb at the cabin. "I'll get him. He's looking forward to speaking with you."

"Why? So I can ruin his day?" I joked, but Steve only gave a pitying half-smile.

Oh well.

He headed inside, leaving the girl behind, and she shyly peered up at me.

I knelt down next to her. "What's your name?"

"Morgan."

Tony Stark's daughter. Of course. The poor girl.

"I'm Eira."

"What kind of name is that?" she asked, but not unkindly. It was the type of innocent curiosity only a child could have.

"Mine, I guess," I shrugged and glanced at her shirt. It was one of those Frozen t-shirts that every American kid under age ten had. "So you like Anna and Elsa?"

"Yeah."

"I have a secret to show you, okay?"

Morgan nodded, and I held out my hand, palm up, for her to see. Ice rose out of my hand, carefully weaving itself into the shape of a delicate snowflake.

Her eyes widened, her mouth agape. "You're like Elsa," she whispered.

I smiled. "Not quite."

More ice blossomed out of my hand, gently swirling around the two of us. Morgan reached out to touch it, but I said, "You can look, but you're not allowed to touch it. It's far too cold to touch."

It was too cold for any human to touch, myself included, and sure enough, the evidence of this had begun to appear. My hand turned a deep, inhuman blue, a sign of one of the many powers I was cursed with. The shade crept up my wrist and under my long, black sleeve.

"Your hand is blue!" Morgan exclaimed, mesmerized by everything around her. "Why?"

"It just happens when-"

I was interrupted when the sky opened up again, and another bolt of lightning pierced the ground. Morgan whirled around, nearly running into the streams of ice, but I closed my fist again, and the ice fell to the ground.

With my non-blue hand, I grabbed Morgan and stepped in front of her to shield her. When the lightning retracted, two tall men were standing where it had touched down. One was a heavyset blond with long, wild hair. He wielded an axe that was still crackling with electricity. Leaning on his shoulder was a pale, exhausted man with black, greasy, shoulder-length hair. I recognized the first man, or rather, Asgardian, as Thor, but I didn't know who the other one was.

"Thor!" Morgan shouted and ran to hug him. She was so much shorter than him that she was clutching his leg, but Thor leaned over to wrap his free arm around her back.

"Hello, little one," he beamed.

I turned to the greasy one, but he was staring at my hand. You know, the blue one.

This wouldn't be easy to explain.

"You're a Jotun," he said, a look of incredulity splayed across his face.

Or maybe it would be easy.

"Mostly human," I corrected, but it was too late.

Thor's eyes narrowed. "Where's Steve?" he asked Morgan, and she pointed inside. "Go get him. She shouldn't be here."

She faltered for a moment, but then she ran inside.

Thor tightened his grip on his axe, and streaks of electricity arced wildly off of it, getting closer and closer to me. "You shouldn't be here."

"You don't even know me," I told him, little sparks starting to snap off my hands, and the blue one faded back to its normal tone. My heart began to climb up my throat, and I took a cautious step back from the two men.

I didn't know who the other man was, and he looked weak, but Thor was a god. I didn't like my chances.

"Frost Giants are long enemies of humans."

"I'm mostly _human_!" I repeated, my hands sparking faster.

The black-haired man touched Thor's arm. "Thor, I don't think she's lying. She doesn't seem to be a threat."

"You trust her? Brother, I know she is like you, but most Jotuns are raised to hate humans and Asgardians."

"The only things I trust are my instincts, and they are telling me that she's not lying. Besides, her hands are sparking. She may be part Frost Giant, but clearly not completely," his brother urged Thor.

Wait. Thor's brother. Fuck, what was his name? Didn't he break New York City?

"You're Loki, aren't you?" I asked.

"I am."

I took another step back. Nat had told me about him and the number of people who'd died in the invasion he'd led. It wasn't even close to my own body count, but the fact that he had a death total somewhat comparable to mine wasn't reassuring.

Then I heard a door slam shut behind me, and a bolt leashed out from Thor's axe at me. I held out my hands in front of me, and the lightning jumped back to the axe. Even though I deflected the lightning, I'd only been able to deflect a part of it.

I staggered back as the remnants of the electricity rippled across my body, and my head clouded up. Through blurry vision, I glared at Thor, but both were staring at me, bewildered. They thought I hadn't been hit.

"Who _are_ you?" Loki asked.

Before I could answer, I heard Steve shout from the porch, "Thor, leave her alone! She's a friend!"

He rushed over to me and tensed up when he saw who Thor had brought back with him.

"Loki? I thought you were dead," Steve turned to Thor. "Was he the distress signal?"

I rubbed my head, trying to see clearer, uninterested in their drama. Everyone thought that anyone they hadn't seen in a while had died in the Snap.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm alive," Loki sneered.

"Why is he here?" Steve asked Thor.

"Does everyone have a problem with Jotuns? They don't want us anywhere," I mumbled, and Loki looked at me, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

When my vision steadied, I lowered my hands to see two jagged burn streaks in the center of palms that went up my arms, though they were covered by my sleeves.

Shit.

I started walking away from them to my car for bandages. I ignored Steve's shouts that asked me where I was going; I blocked everything out. When I reached my car, I sank against the door, sitting on the ground. I needed to talk to Nat, to tell her about everything that had happened after the second Snap, but I obviously couldn't do that. I buried my head in my hands, hoping that that would somehow fix everything.

But it didn't. I rubbed my teary eyes and rolled up my sleeves to see how injured I was. Even when my sleeves were pushed back to my elbows, the burn was still going, and I groaned. I knew I would have been in excruciating pain had all the nerve endings on my arms and shoulders not been dead for years from several fires, all of which I'd barely survived. But this thin burn had spread in a jagged line up my arms, the damaged tissue pale pink and covered in wet blisters. They looked superficial but at least second degree.

I saw Steve, Thor, and Loki walk around the side of the cabin, all heading towards me, and I shoved my sleeves down over my burns as I stood up. I got a small backpack of my car containing emergency medical supplies, making sure not to let the strap touch any of the blisters on my hand.

When they got close enough, I popped open the trunk to see the man I'd captured from the old Outlier site.

"I hope you have some use for him," I told Steve when he saw what was in the trunk. "I wasn't in the mood for a deeper interrogation after I got him."

Steve stared at me, deadpan. "Eira."

"What?"

"You can't keep people in your trunk."

"I can, and I did."

Loki nodded approvingly. He wasn't exactly a person I'd want to support my actions, but it didn't seem like anyone else here would.

"Are you sure she's not a threat?" Thor asked Steve.

"I am a threat, but I don't have too much against you, so as far as you're concerned, I'm perfectly safe," I told him with a fake smile. I turned back to Steve, "Is there a shower here I can use? I've been driving for more than two days, and I'd like to not feel disgusting."

"You'd rather take a shower than talk to Fury?"

So that was the name of his contact. Why did that sound familiar?

"He can wait for half-an-hour," I positioned myself and rolled back a sleeve a little to show Steve the burn. I whispered, "I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thor did this?" he mouthed.

I nodded.

"Up the stairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," I said, leaving Steve to deal with my captive.

After I washed my hair, careful not to let any soap get into the burns, I just stood under the cold water for several minutes. When I was done, I dressed quickly into clean clothes, but I left my shirt off so I could treat the burns that had splintered all the way up to my shoulders.

For a moment, I stared at myself in the large mirror hanging on the wall in front of me, at the pale, unmarred skin of my arms and torso that hid what so many fires missions had taken from me. Only my hands showed any damage-little red marks where my sparks had burned my skin. I stared at my shoulder-length brown hair that I still had by some miracle, now hanging in loose, wet curls, and at my toned arms and stomach-a couple of the few parts of myself that I'd made an effort to keep after what happened so I could make sure I'd never be weak again. Nearly every part of my body had been altered in some way, whether to cover up a blemish that could raise too many eyes, or to undo an injury.

I jumped as I heard a crash come from somewhere down the hall, and I swung open the door to look outside. But no one was in the hallway, and I went back inside, keeping the door open to see out so I wouldn't be caught off guard if anything had actually happened.

I grabbed a box out of my backpack and set it on the counter. I got out what I needed-bandages, medical tape, scissors, and bandage wrap-and I set to work.

I started with my hands, and I'd just finished wrapping my first hand when I noticed someone in the corner of my eye.

Loki.

"Do you need the bathroom?" I asked.

He merely leaned against the door and looked over me. "You're burnt. From Thor?"

"Yeah. And?"

"'And?' I thought you deflected the lightning. But here you are, burnt, and you're acting as if this is all just a slight burden."

I bit my lip. How much did I want to tell him? He was dangerous and twisted-a combination of characteristics I refused to trust anybody with, both out of common sense and due to past mistakes. But something about him, perhaps the tiredness in his eyes, or the weakness he was trying to mask with nonchalance, let my guard slide down half-an-inch. He'd already seen part of my powers anyway. I hadn't fled, leaving dust in the wind like I had with anyone else who may have seen something they shouldn't have.

"I can control electricity because of my alien cells, but my human cells aren't protected from my actions. Besides, these are only superficial wounds. Professional help can wait," I told him as I began bandaging the other hand.

"Superficial wounds are still excruciating."

"Are you saying that from personal experience? We could be burn buddies," I said with fake enthusiasm.

He pressed his lips together in a small smile but glanced at the floor before turning the questions back on me. "Why are you treating your burns like an annoyance? Humans are naturally weak and fire is the worst form of torture for a Frost Giant, but you haven't so much as sucked in a pained breath."

I sighed and summoned the metal scissors to my hand, ignoring Loki's reaction. "If my burns were almost anywhere else on my body, I would not be taking it so well, but I don't have nerve endings on my arms or shoulders anymore. Now, I'm just… numb."

That seemed to give him pause. It was shocking really, that anything could make him shut up. It was nice for the three seconds it lasted.

"What happened?" he pressed further.

"Severe burns."

"And yet you have no scars to see. Can you heal yourself?"

"No. I was 'lucky' enough to have the generation's best doctors, and they were able to regrow my skin from my own stem cells."

"'Lucky?'" he asked.

"Lucky that they made me look normal; but not lucky enough that…" _they were able to keep me alive so I could still do what Outlier wanted me to. _But I didn't say that. In fact, I was kind of done with talking. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?"

I shrugged. "Not that I'd mind that, but you don't seem the type to leave just because someone asks you to. So if you're going to stay, then I don't really want to be the one to talk. Tell me why you're alive. Steve seemed pretty surprised that you came back."

"Steve believed I died trying to kill Thanos before the Snap, but I didn't die until the Snap."

"Why not?"

"You sound disappointed."

I shrugged again, but gestured at him with the scissors to continue.

"I was on a ship with all of the Asgardians who had survived Hela-my murderous older step-sister-and the destruction of Asgard when Thanos attacked us. He slaughtered half of all of the remaining Asgardians to get the Tesseract, which I had. The Tesseract was one of the Infinity Stones, and I had… I knew what Thanos was after, and what he'd do if he got the Tesseract. I knew I was going to die whether or not I gave it to him, and I fled to Knowhere using the stone. It was where I'd sent the Reality Stone a few years before to keep it safe, and I was hoping to get the Stone away from there. So I went there, made a double of myself, sent the double back to face Thanos with the Tesseract, and of course, he died. By the time Thanos made it to Knowhere, the Stone was still there. Thanos stole it and destroyed much of the place while I was stranded there with no one to know I was even alive. Then the Snap happened, and I died. Three days ago, I came back, still trapped there, and I was able to send out a distress signal with some menial scraps. Now I'm here."

"Well. Congrats on being not dead."

He scoffed. "You must be your own breed."

"I prefer the term 'hybrid'. It's more accurate and it sounds cooler," I corrected him.

"A hybrid of…?"

I shook my head. "That's a story for another day."

He paused. "But you won't tell me it, will you?"

I gave a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "No, I won't."

"Even if I'm like you? What do you even know about Jotuns?"

"Apparently, they have a terrible reputation. Though in our cases, I'd argue the reputation is well-deserved."

"And what could you have done to earn such a dreadful reputation?"

"Nothing good."

"Tell me about it then. Not now, but another day, like you said."

I looked him in the eye, searching for something I couldn't put my finger on. "Okay."

He smiled and spun on his heel, but paused and looked over me again. He was staring at me, almost… transfixed. It was then that I remembered I wasn't wearing a shirt. But that wasn't what he was looking at. He just looked at me-all and none of me at the same time.

Then he was gone.

I turned back to my bandages and medical tape and my almost mechanical bandaging process. I didn't need someone looking at me like that-not exactly with affection, but with intrigue, and intrigue was dangerous.

Chapter Two

I didn't see Loki again for two more months. By that point, I thought he'd forgotten about me; he was practically a god after all. In fact, part of the reason I agreed to talk with him was because I never thought he'd take me up on the offer. That's what I'd told myself to comfort me, anyway.

After he'd left that day, he left for New Asgard, and I sat down with Director Fury. He was highly interested in my story, and after three days of testing and four more days of training, everything was set into motion. I discussed Outlier's tactics, and we came up with our own plan to counter them. By we, I meant S.H.I.E.L.D. I still didn't know how it felt to be working with another hidden organization, even if this time it was voluntary. Still, I kept my distance from headquarters as long as I could. Sometimes as I walked down the corridors, the floor and walls around me would change into the drab grey-white hallways of the old Outlier compound I'd gone back to after the second Snap. But it only lasted for a moment, and then I was back in the real world, though the shadow of the memory hung over me.

So I lived and worked on my own terms as much as I could, even if that meant motels were the closest thing I had to a home. And that's just how things were. At least, until Loki showed up.

I sat in the SUV that S.H.I.E.L.D. had given me across the street from an old cafe, watching a man eat his dinner. As he ate, I started working on his capture report. He wasn't captured yet, but he would be soon. He was one of the few Outlier agents whose pictures I'd managed to get my hands on via old security tapes that were constantly circling through facial recognition software.

My target finished his meal, paid his bill, and strolled out of the restaurant.

I followed him from a distance until I found myself in an ancient warehouse that could not have been up to code anymore, but was still in use nonetheless. Several blocks back, I'd noticed someone tracking us, and he'd finally caught up. Another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had arrived-a Skrull of all people-to shadow the target from a different angle all the way to the warehouse. We followed the enemy agent until he plucked a box off one of the dozens of shelves in the unit.

On the other agent's signal, I rammed the two giant, rickety metal shelves our target was standing between at one another, solidly pinning the target. He dropped the box he was holding, but both he and the box were unharmed, although quite trapped. I spun the metal from the one shelves around his wrists and ankles, securely restraining him. When I pulled the shelves apart, the Outlier agent was rendered helpless while the other agent, Atun, and I closed in on our target.

"Who the-" the Outlier agent began speaking, but I dropped a piece of metal on his head, knocking him out on impact.

"You could've waited to knock him out. We could've gathered some intel from him," sighed Atun.

"Interrogation isn't my job. I leave that for people who enjoy it, like Maria Hill," I argued.

Atun raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by my statement.

"Don't give me that look," I protested. "Do you know how many people Outlier has killed over the last sixty years? This is but a small bit of payback. Besides, we're on a schedule, so get going."

"Yeah, yeah," Atun mumbled.

Atun stared at the tied-up agent, and Atun's body shifted and rearranged to change into a different species of alien with blue skin and black eyes. Meanwhile, I ripped off another piece of metal and formed the edge into a sharp point, making almost scalpel-like. I felt the back of the agent's neck for a slight bump, and when I found it, I carefully dug around it. A few moments later, I held a tiny metal tracker in my palm, and I conjured a bit of water to rinse it off.

"Turn around," I told Atun.

"That is so unsanitary."

"You'll be fine."

He rolled his eyes but slowly turned around, and I cut a spot in the back of his neck to insert the tracker. He grimaced and almost shouted, but it was over soon enough. Blood ran down his neck from the open wound, but then he placed a blue hand on it, and when he took it away, the skin was healed.

Once there wasn't so much as a scratch left, Atun shifted his appearance again to make himself look identical to the unconscious agent, even down to the clothing the agent wore. I looked away as his skin morphed, trying to rid myself of the image by shaking my head. Skrulls. Even though I had more in common with Skrulls than I cared to admit, their ability to shape-shift never ceased to unsettle me.

"You remember everything?" I asked Atun.

"No," he remarked dryly. "I'm going undercover without remembering exactly what I need to do."

"I'm sorry. I've just got a feeling about this that I can't shake," I tried to defend myself.

"Stop worrying. That's my job for the upcoming months. Anyway, you need to focus on how you're going to him into the back of your SUV inconspicuously."

"I'll be fine. Don't forget to take this-they'll be expecting it. Make sure to tell me what's in there when you're on the inside," I tossed Atun the box that the Outlier agent had dropped. "Be safe-and don't forget to report back as soon as possible."

"Uh-huh."

He left, and I began dragging the agent out by the makeshift handcuffs I'd put on him. I'd pursued the agent in my SUV, so it was parked outside the warehouse. By then, it was dark, and I hurried to get him in my trunk. When my powers didn't quite do the trick, I shoved him. I tied him up in my trunk, and started driving for the drop point to dispose of him.

I'd driven for an hour, not far off from the drop point when I saw something I never forgot. The sky opened a hundred yards in front of me, and a tunnel of iridescent lights dropped to the ground, creating a small storm of grey clouds where it touched down. I slammed on my brakes, and the agent in the back moaned. as his head smacked the back of the seat he was tied to.

My eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the small storm as it cleared, and my hands let out a few sparks. The road was illuminated by a streetlamp, and out of the faint haze walked a man, confident in his stride. When I recognized him, I almost hit him with my car, just out of spite.

Loki walked over to the passenger side of my SUV, and I rolled down the window.

"What the hell was _that_? You just show up in the middle of the night in a fucking storm? If I hadn't been able to recognize you because the clouds or whatever got in the way, I would've set you on fire!" I yelled at him.

"Am I sensing concern for my well-being?" he asked, unaffected by my outburst.

"Absolutely not. My point was, do _not_ do that again."

"Oh, I see. I scared you. Well, rest assured, the Bifrost is harmless."

"The Bifrost?"

"It's the portal from Asgard to Earth. The Rainbow Bridge," he explained as though this was common knowledge. For all I knew, it was, I just hadn't heard of it before given my somewhat-recent introduction to society.

But as far as him coming from Asgard, not New Asgard, was information I was still processing. Apparently, the Snap that had brought half of the universe back to life had also revived Asgard and the Asgardians who'd been killed before the Decimation. So that was cool, I supposed. After that was discovered, the citizens of New Asgard had left Earth in favor of their old planet.

"Right," I sighed. "And you knew I was here, how?"

"The Gatekeeper of Asgard and the Bifrost Bridge is omniscient."

"Naturally," I stared at him with an edge of incredulity. "What are you even doing here? And don't tell me you're here just to talk to me."

"Would you rather me lie about my intentions?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's nighttime. This is when you come to talk to me? I think you need to reevaluate your planning skills."

"It's not nighttime yet on Asgard."

"Good for you. But seeing as we are in fact, on Earth, I don't particularly care that it's not night there."

"It is relevant, actually," Loki argued.

"How?"

He shrugged and tilted his head in the direction of where the Bifrost had landed.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to an alien planet just because a _mass murderer _told me to! I'm not stupid."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "You seemed to ignore that fact earlier."

"Maybe I shouldn't have."

"Then why didn't you in the first place?"

That stopped me. This was crossing into dangerous territory, a place he didn't need to see. But what would happen if he saw? What would he do? Nothing I couldn't turn back on him-I was a trained assassin who'd destroyed entire cities before.

And just like that, simply remembering who I was gave me my answer.

"My past is darker than yours."

For a moment, I could see my reflection in his eyes. I was just a young woman, skittish and frightened, but not because of him. No one would point me out on the street as a suspect of an awful crime, so what could I have done that would make me worse than one of the most frightening men to ever walk on Earth?

"I doubt that," Loki said slowly, and I knew he meant it.

"That doesn't make it any less true."

"Fair enough," he nodded.

Finally, I unlocked the passenger side door and gestured for Loki to get in.

He narrowed his eyes. "The Bifrost won't pick up your vehicle."

"We're not going to Asgard yet," I stopped myself for a moment as I thought over my words. "Wow, I can't believe that's an actual sentence that came out of my mouth. Huh. Anyway, I have an errand to run, and then we can… we can go," I relented.

"What errand?"

"I have to drop off another prisoner. He's in my trunk."

"Do you make a habit of that?"

"I'd like to say no, but… yes. Yes, I do."

It was my job, after all.

Loki got in, and under the SUV lights that turned on when the door opened, I could see him clearly. He looked different from the last time I'd seen him: he was completely clean, well-groomed in a black suit, and well-rested.

I started driving again, and my restlessness broke the silence before long.

"I would like to make one thing clear: I will go to Asgard-at least for a while-so long as you don't do anything that would break my trust. If you lie, manipulate me, or do anything else among those lines, I'm gone."

"How will you know if I'm lying? I'm known to be quite persuasive."

"I've lived most of my life with professional liars and manipulators; I know when someone says or does something untrustworthy."

He glanced at me, almost trying to gauge me, as if looking hard enough would reveal my secrets. But he agreed.

I couldn't tell if he was lying about that too.

I left my SUV, the agent, and his box at the drop point, I grabbed a black backpack from the backseat, and Loki and I walked down the road a ways. My gaze kept darting over at him, keeping an eye on his movements with only the moonlight and stars to help me to see him, but he was perfectly calm and content.

At last, we stopped in the middle of the road, and Loki shouted up at the sky, "Heimdall!"

Within moments, the tunnel of light which brought Loki here descended upon us and took us into the fold.

"This is the Bifrost," Loki announced, but I was barely listening to him because something else had caught my attention: the view.

Through the Bifrost's multicolored filter, I marveled at the glittering stars, distant planets, hurtling comets, and galaxies around me. I laughed a little. I was in _space_. The part of me that thought being here wasn't such a good idea was pushed away by my amazement. Screw critical thinking skills that might keep me out of trouble; this was breathtaking.

All too soon, the Bifrost ended, and I stumbled out of the portal into a grand room. The room was a giant dome, with the ceiling decorated solely with spectacular golden gears. In the center of the room, a dark-skinned man wearing ornate armor unsheathed his sword from a pedestal, and the Bifrost seemed to stop. Beside me, Loki's image rippled, and he was now dressed in a forest green, long-sleeved tunic and black pants. I opened my mouth to ask _What?,_ but my attention was drawn back by the stranger in front of me.

"Welcome to Asgard," the man said to me, and he nodded respectfully to Loki, who returned the gesture. "I am Heimdall."

Loki gestured to me, "This is-"

"-Eira," Heimdall interrupted.

I widened my eyes in alarm and gave Loki an accusatory glare, "Does everybody know my name?"

"He's omniscient, remember? He knows everybody's name. Disturbing people he's never met by saying their name is just a parlor trick."

"I'd hate to see what you call real magic, then," I muttered.

"All in good time," Loki responded and began walking out of the room, obviously expecting me to follow him.

I sighed, but the sound was knocked from my lungs when I stepped through the open doors. I found myself standing on a huge bridge which stretched to an expansive island. A golden city gleamed at the end of the bridge, with hundreds of spires and towers reaching up toward the clear blue sky. Probably the most eye-catching building stood in the center of the city: a castle made of towers, all positioned together like a pipe organ. Behind the city lay a mountain range more beautiful than any on Earth. And beneath the bridge was a crystal blue ocean, not a boat in sight.

"It's… beautiful," the words felt cheap on my tongue, as though the word wasn't magnificent enough to describe the planet. "I know Asgard had been recreated, but I didn't think it had been to this extent. Is this what it looked like before it was destroyed?"

"Yes."

"Is your family all here?"

Loki's eyes grew cloudy, and I'd hit a nerve. "No. My parents are dead, and my brother has run off on an adventure, it seems."

He strained to get out the words, but I pushed him-on the easier subject anyway. I didn't need to know about his parents' deaths. Anyway, this counted as our conversation, didn't it?

"Why did he leave? Wasn't he the king or ruler of Asgard or whatever?"

"Thor left Brunnhilde as King of Asgard. She'd been there for the Asgardians when neither of us were. Thor and I stayed as princes, but he was done here. He went looking for something, something he couldn't find here, I suppose."

"I can understand that," I replied softly, and we exchanged brief yet understanding glances. "I'm sorry," I offered.

We walked without talking for a long while after that. I think we were both perfectly happy to simply look at the scenery we were heading toward.

Chapter Three

When we reached the end of the bridge, it was late afternoon, and Loki guided me through the streets. I was about to ask where we were going, but before I knew it, we were on a path leading through the front gates of the castle.

It was odd how Loki strolled so leisurely into the palace, while I was a silent mess following him. And then we were inside.

I was inside a _castle_ on a different _planet_. He led me through the ornately decorated entry hall, never taking a wrong turn, despite how huge the palace was. But after all, he was a prince, something I was still trying to wrap my head around.

The halls we walked through were huge and a bit too grandiose for my taste, no matter how beautifully the walls were decorated. Gold covered the walls in various designs, some strands of gold intricately twisted around one another, while some other patterns were less whimsical, and more blocky. Statues of rulers, soldiers, or fantastical creatures towered over us, making even Loki appear small. The floors, as well as dozens of columns, were built of gorgeous marbled stone.

Eventually, we made our way outside to the gardens. All of the flora, though lovely and vaguely reminiscent of the plants back on Earth, were different. The trees seemed to curve differently, and the flowers on bushes bloomed in more extravagant and alluring shapes. The grass was greener and perfectly cut. Everything stood out to me, and just like the interior of the palace, it was difficult for me to absorb everything. I had the feeling I could live here as long as any Asgardian and still find things to grab my interest and whisk me away into another world.

Loki gave me time to look around me before speaking, but nevertheless, my attention was turned away from my surroundings to his beloved conversation.

"What do you know about Frost Giants?" he asked as we roamed the pathways of the gardens.

"Truth be told, not a lot," I began. "I know they are giants, in comparison to humans, at the very least, and they can manipulate and create ice. I'm assuming their skin is blue because that's what color my skin turns when I use that particular gift. And I know you are a Frost Giant by birth, but your allegiance seems to lie with Asgard."

"You know nothing of their history or what planet they live on?" he pressed, obviously confused that I knew so little about them.

"No. I didn't know how I got my powers until I was twenty-three years old, and by that time, I really wanted nothing to do with my powers. Besides, doing research on the other seven species my gifts were stolen from didn't seem appealing at the time."

"Seven species? How did you get your powers?"

"You really care about that?"

"You have the genetic makeup belonging to nine species, if I'm correct. Do you know how bizarre that sounds to someone who knows nothing about you?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. Well, this may take a bit to explain, but you're the one who dragged me off to an alien planet, so I may as well bore you to death with this story. Payback," I smiled. "Anyway, in the sixties, an organization called Outlier was founded with the purpose of driving the human race forward one unfortunate 'accident' at a time. They thought that by creating terrible problems for humans to learn how to deal with, that humans would form better solutions for these problems. To stay secret, they framed numerous incidents as accidents, and many of these incidents revolved around nature. Who would think twice about Mother Nature acting up in terrible ways? Natural disasters or plain accidents have existed for as long as human beings can remember, so they were the perfect way to screw up the world while staying hidden. They would be the outlier in the scope of all incidents, and raise enough hell to change the data set a noticeable amount. What they forgot was that outliers are often thrown out in a data set because everything else works well enough or is consistent to some degree. They were foolish.

"Then in the mid-nineties, a Skrull was found and captured by some of Outlier's agents. They didn't really know what it was, but they knew it was an alien, so they studied it. They learned Skrulls can shapeshift into other creatures, and even copy those creatures' DNA. Once the Outlier agents discovered this, they forced it to replicate certain beings, and they harvested its DNA. Each creature the Skrull turned into was able to control an element, and a few doctors at Outlier were able to take pieces of DNA that gave them those powers and fused the DNA with a number of fertilized human embryos. So while I am mostly human, I have pieces of DNA from eight alien species, and I can manipulate ice, fire, water, air, earth, electricity, light, and metals. I was the twenty-sixth successful fertilized embryo trial. They called me Twenty-Six, but later in life, I named myself 'Eira.'"

Loki didn't seem to know what to say. Not that I could blame him - hell, I still didn't even know what to think about my powers, and I'd had them for almost twenty-five years.

At last, he broke the silence, "Why 'Eira?'"

I paused. "Based on the way I looked, I was trained to specialize in areas in Europe. Basically, they wanted me to blend in with the countries I was in, and part of that was learning languages that are spoken there. I read books written in those languages, and in one of the first books I ever read, 'Eira' was the main character, and I sort of idolized her. A lot of my siblings chose names for themselves how I did, and that's what we called each other," I explained.

"How many siblings do you have?"

I chest tensed up, its seams attempting to break, but I forced myself to shove down the feeling. "I had a few dozen."

"You 'had' a few _dozen_?"

I nodded, not bothering to elaborate, and by some miracle, Loki moved on.

"When we met, you said you were once severely burned. Did Outlier make you use your powers even though they damaged you?"

I was much more hesitant to answer this question, even more so than the last few. All the information I'd just given him couldn't be used to hurt me, as far as I could tell, or he already knew a bit of the information. I didn't want to give him any fuel. But on the other hand, I'd probably be leaving soon, and I'd never be around Loki again, so what did it matter if I told him anything? Besides, it was kind of nice being able to talk about these things. Even though it hurt, it helped to talk. I hadn't opened up since Nat had died.

"Yes," I solemnly answered.

"In what ways?"

This was the point where I was supposed to say 'Fuck off, it's none of your business,' but something kept me from doing that. Instead of getting mad and walking in the other direction, I told him the truth. From what I knew about his own past, he had little room to judge me either way.

"They sent me on missions at least four times a year until after the Decimation, when I was only sent on three. As for the types of missions… well, Outlier was certainly creative in coming up with new ways for me to 'push people forward,'" my breath began to catch as I braced myself to tell him the next part. "Those burns I told you about are from a few of those missions. On my first mission, they had me burn down a factory full of workers. It was a bad area, and a lot of those workers were children who were even younger than I'd been. I was thirteen. Later I was in an even more extreme fire, and I lost all the feeling on my arms, shoulders, ribcage, and throat. My hands were burned especially bad, and the doctors even had to replace some of the bones with titanium to save them. They actually rebuilt me a new hand from scratch."

He was quiet for a long time, and I took his silence for surprise It was funny; for some reason, I hadn't thought I could actually catch him off guard.

"How many people survived?"

I swallowed hard and shook my head. He understood.

I refused to look at him, and once again, I was wondering why I was telling him such things. How could I expect someone else to face all this if I couldn't even do that? How could I expect someone to see me without my terrible mistakes painting over me?

"Don't do that," Loki's voice was sharp and unexpected, even if what I'd done deserved the tone.

"Don't do what? The missions? It's too late for that."

"Obviously. I meant, don't look away from someone like you're not worth their eye contact. You act like you deserve nothing good, and you don't care about yourself-"

"-Excuse me, but I am one of the most cautious people-," I cut in, and he cut me off.

"Then how do you explain recklessly using your powers? I saw how your fingers spark when you're nervous, and your hands are covered in tiny burns. When I arrived to Earth two months ago, you were using your Jotun gifts. It turned your skin blue, which as I understand, doesn't protect you from the terrible temperatures of Jotun skin. I don't know why you were using them, but you were with the Stark child, so I doubt it was anything sinister. Anyway, your powers damage you, yet you use them may put up a front and pretend you care about protecting yourself, but your willingness to use your powers refutes that."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"I'm not wrong, though, am I?"

"Why do you care?" I snapped.

"I don't."

I shook my head at him."Not lying was one of my rules, so why did you just say that? You obviously care, to some extent, at least. I've yelled at you and been too insensitive and close myself off, yet you keep asking more and more questions about me. By now, it's beyond the point of just genetics," Loki kept silent throughout my tirade, but I kept going: "If this is what 'not caring' looks like on you, then it's becoming lost on me why you have such a bad reputation."

He stayed silent throughout my rant and stayed quiet for a moment afterward.

"I suppose the term 'redemption' is lost on you, too?"

I laughed stiffly. "Redemption is something I know well. Or trying to redeem myself, at the very least."

"Well, I'm not unaccustomed to the notion, either, if you can believe that. But just because you're trying to change things doesn't make you a monster for your past shortcomings. And before you say 'I never said that,' know that you don't always need words to understand something," Loki finished.

His words slammed into me, and I thought to myself, _Don't you think I try not to blame myself? It's not that simple. I can't wish away years of guilt because of a nice sentence or two! Maybe you'll think I'm weak because of that or I need to just try harder, but deeply-imbedded thoughts aren't that easy to send away._

But I didn't say that. Instead, I settled on, "I didn't realize you were so perceptive."

"I don't only think about myself, as many would be surprised to know."

I smiled softly.

"Is Outlier still around?" Loki asked, turning around the conversation. It seemed I wasn't the only one who didn't really want to talk about my psychology anymore.

"I destroyed them about two years ago." A half-truth.

In just one line, words were bubbling up within me again, desperate to burst out. I kept them deep within me and made sure my facial expression didn't change an increment. I wouldn't let him or anybody else see that part of me. I hated how my guard kept going up and down around him. Only two other people had been able to do that to me before, but just like everybody else, they were both gone now. At that point, it seemed painful reminder after painful reminder had crept up on me, and I was done talking.

"Earlier, you asked me what I knew about the history of Frost Giants, and you were almost confused about how little I knew. Why is that so odd to you?" I pressured on him to lead the conversation.

Loki thought through it for a moment before answering. I guess neither of us wanted the attention on themselves.

"On Asgard, Jotuns aren't exactly admired, to say the least."

"I'd gathered that from Thor's reaction," I mumbled, but he continued.

"The race has a dark history of bloody warfare, and on this planet, among other places in the Nine Realms, they are looked upon as monsters. My whole life, that was largely my opinion of the Frost Giants until I discovered that I was one.

"You see, I was raised to believe I was born an Asgardian, in fact, the son of the king and queen. I was supposed to have a fair chance against my brother to hold the role of the throne once I was old enough, but after I learned of my true parentage, I knew that chance was ruined. I was only going to be looked upon by the public as being a monster, just like the rest of the Jotunns.

"But you, you are partially a Frost Giant, and you have no qualms about admitting such a thing. You don't have the background of them to stain how you look upon yourself. I have had many privileges in my life, but that is the one thing I wished I was able to have, above most others," he admitted.

"Don't think I'm all too fascinating for not letting my heritage make me feel like shit about myself. I can do that all on my own, thank you very much."

Loki chuckled quietly, and I cracked a grin.

Suddenly, my stomach rumbled. Loudly.

He looked over at me and raised his eyebrows in the most infuriating way, like I was completely in control of how when my stomach decides to be hungry and make noise.

"Don't look at me like that," I glared. "I can't control that."

"I'm not-never mind. Come, it's almost time for dinner."

"You don't have to feed me. I should probably head back anyway."

Loki ignored me, and he started walking away, obviously expecting me to follow him.

"Loki, I really don't think it would be appropriate for me to eat dinner here. This technically isn't even your castle," I tried to argue.

"It certainly wouldn't be appropriate in your human attire."

"Oh, so now you're complaining about my clothes," I said as I caught up to him. "Charming."

Chapter Four

Twenty minutes later, I was standing behind a curtain in the servants' work area of the castle, wearing a simple yet elegant floor-length dress. The layered pieces of white silk were complemented by the gold straps and waist decoration.

I wasn't afraid to admit I looked good in the dress, with my shoulder-length, golden-brown hair not hiding any of my _assets_, so to speak, but I couldn't help but shake my head as to how Loki convinced me to actually wear a dress. I hadn't worn one in almost five years, and under very different circumstances than this. I'd been completely prepared to adamantly refuse to wear anything Loki insisted I wear until I found this dress.

"Is this silk?" I'd asked as I felt the cool, sleek fabric.

"Yes."

I sighed. "Damn. I'll wear it. This is the only time you're winning, though," I jokingly pointed at him for emphasis.

The reaction Loki had given me let me know he was appreciative of my taste in fabrics. How little did he know. The silk didn't win me over because of its fine material; it'd won me over because of its light-weight material. It was the best material for someone of my condition. Because of my severe burns, though healed, I couldn't sweat on my arms, neck, and the upper part of my torso, and my general temperature was pretty shitty. Fabrics like silk helped me cool down.

I slid on a pair of sandals I'd been given earlier, and I walked out from behind the thick curtain to Loki, my bundle of clothes folded in my arms.

"If you say anything, I won't hesitate to punch you," I threatened.

Loki rolled his eyes. That was fair.

The two of us walked through the elaborate halls, and as we turned down the second-to-last hallway, a loud group of voices immediately slammed into me. The noise sent my nerves on high alert, and power rushed through my body to my hands. But I suppressed it, not letting out a single spark, and I put my attention on the commotion ahead of me.

After an agonizing twenty more paces or so, we reached a large hall filled with several long dining tables. Dozens of people were seated on each bench placed at either side of the tables, and dishes of food, plates, silverware, and golden or silver goblets were set in front of the people. Along the far wall stood a row of balconies overlooking the stunning city below the castle. It was then that I realized the noise wasn't from angry or menacing shouts, but happy people cheering as the others chugged overflowing glasses of beer or clapped one another on the back.

The thundering in my mind calmed to a dim quiet as I told myself over and over that there was no threat here; I was safe.

I followed Loki to the middle of one of the tables and we sat ourselves across from a smiling, brown-skinned woman with long, braided-back, dark brown hair. Her silver and gray armor with gold accents gleamed, and her brilliant blue cape flowed down to the floor. We both sat down, and I set my backpack I'd been carrying this whole time down at my feet.

"I knew you brought a human here, Loki, but I didn't expect her to already be integrated into our culture," the woman joked.

"Let her be, Brunnhilde," Loki responded.

My eyebrows popped up like the little traitors they were, and my voice did nothing to disguise my surprise, either.

"You're the King?" I asked.

"I only go by Brunnhilde," she smiled as she downed her chalice full of beer in only a matter of seconds, but this time, I managed to contain my surprise, "but I will happily respond to 'my King,' if you'd like."

"I thought only your lovers called you that," Loki said.

Brunnhilde firmly set down her cup and gave him a pointed look. "I was just about to give her that line."

"Terribly sorry to disappoint," he smirked and poured himself a glass of wine. I hungrily stared at the various alcohol around me and the thoughts it drew back up which I'd tried so hard to bury came around to play. He was about to pour wine into my own chalice, but I poured water into it before he could. No slip-ups today.

"So what you brings to Asgard?" Brunnhilde returned her attention to me.

"Loki, unfortunately," I explained as I began to serve myself food.

"I think I need more elaboration," Brunnhilde said as she glanced back and forth between the two of us, trying to connect any dots she could.

"Brunnhilde, stop looking at us like that. There is a reason you are the king, not a matchmaker," Loki rolled his eyes, and he told her the events that unfolded leading up to dinner, leaving out the details of Outlier and the extent of my powers. I wasn't upset with him for sharing the bit about my Frost Giant genetics; Brunnhilde, no matter how inebriated, would have raised an eyebrow if we had not fed her that crucial piece of information-that was why I was even here. Besides, I was leaving after dinner.

When he had finished speaking, I silently thanked him with a relieved look, and he merely responded with a slow blink as he drank in the rest of my face. My pulse quickened to a loud thrum in my chest, and I began reading way too much into the long glance. Perhaps Brunnhilde was right about one of us, as far as it came to matchmaking. Not that I reciprocated the feeling. No, of course I didn't feel that way.

"So how long will you be staying with us, ...?" she trailed off, hoping for my name.

"Eira. And only for dinner."

"This is slightly unorthodox for Asgard - to have a human stay here, that is - but if you would like to stay overnight, you are welcome to," Brunnhilde offered.

Loki narrowed his eyes critically. "The last dozen years of Asgardian history have been more than 'slightly unorthodox.'"

Brunnhilde laughed.

"Is this just a ploy for you to get me to refer to you as, 'my King?'" I asked her.

"Do you want it to be?"

I looked at both Loki and Brunnhilde. Shit. "This is a trap."

Brunnhilde and Loki exchanged a knowing look with one another and laughed into their cups to hide their smiles.

"I like her," Brunnhilde said to Loki.

"Do you always refer to your guests in the third person?" I asked in a sugary voice.

"Only when the moment calls for it," she gave me the same type of look Loki had only a minute ago, but her gaze lingered longer and dipped lower than Loki's had.

"I think the moment is gone," I said as politely as possible.

"Damn," she set down her silverware. "Well, the offer still stands for you to stay the night, even if not in the fun way," Brunnhilde wiped her mouth with her napkin and rose from the bench. She pointed at Loki, "You broke her."

"She's been like this since I met her. Believe me, this is the nicest I've seen her be all day," Loki protested, but Brunnhilde waved him off as she swaggered away from him. "I apologize for _that_. There are many sides to her when she's tipsy. That was the flirty side."

"She was only tipsy? You saw how much she drank, right?"

"She has an alcohol tolerance that rivals even the biggest Asgardians."

"Apparently."

I looked around at the Asgardians around me, simply enjoying the company. At the end of one table, a few of them were singing, their speech slurred by the copious amounts of alcohol they'd drank. Despite my apathy toward loud noises and crowds, I just wanted to sit on that bench and absorb this wonderful, carefree world. A world untainted by me and the sorts of trauma I'd caused on Earth. An entire planet where I didn't have to worry about Outlier's ghosts following me. Was it so wrong to not want to go back right now, not only to that atmosphere, but also to the nondescript motels in the middle of nowhere?

I traced patterns on the table to simply lose myself in the mesmerizing movements as I pondered if it would really be so bad not to go back tonight.

"If I'm not intruding, could I stay here for the night?" I asked Loki.

Chapter Five

I lay in a duct, hand stretched out away from me, directing a tiny flame down the dark tunnel. Somehow I knew how to direct it, and though I couldn't see it, the little fire hit a flammable piece of equipment in the factory. The whole building shook with its explosion, and within moments, a beast of fire was roaring down the duct at me. In the yellow and orange and red flames, I saw two eyes and a mouth set with terrible fangs. I was trapped, and the beast swallowed me whole, instantly burning through the duct and ceiling below me.

I dropped down, down, down, just like a stone, into another room. From the ceiling came the beast, consuming the walls and floor and equipment and even the table I landed on. I heard the high-pitched scream of a child, and I picked myself up to see a group of young girls huddled together under a window, their shirts pulled up over their mouths to protect them from the smoke.

But they dropped their shirts, and I saw their faces had no mouths or noses-only eyes, bright and wide and full of fear as they looked between me, this black-cladden figure, and the fire beast I'd brought with me when I'd fallen. He prowled on the wall, waiting to strike, and I pointed at them. The gesture was all the fire beast needed, and he pounced. He tore through them until they were only ashes on the ground, and he bound through the window, shattering it as he went.

I stared at the ash, terrified of what I'd done, when they became alive again. The smoke filled the room around me, and it shifted the cinders, lifting them up and breathing life into them. They took the shape of the girls once more-no, of creatures. They were the same height and build as the girls, but the way that moved could not be called human.

They crawled toward me on all fours, their long, ashy fingers leaving black stains on the floor beneath them. I sent the fire beast to destroy them again, but he'd disappeared. I was helpless. The creatures climbed up on the table I was on, using on another's backs as stepping stools. They lunged, and when they grasped onto me, my clothes erupted in flames. My black suit and mask that had allowed me to breathe in the smoky room fell off me in burning tatters to land with the soot around me.

The creatures grabbed onto my untouched skin with their flaming fingers, and I screamed. I couldn't control the fire this time; no, I was living in the hell my own inferno had created. My skin blistered and tore open, making my nerve endings come alive, a million nerves sending impulses to my brain to form one collective source of unimaginable, body-wrecking pain. I tugged my arm away, but they held on tight. I scrambled off the table toward the window, dragging the creatures along the way, and they clambered up one another. One tried to strangle me, and finally, I made it to the open window. I tumbled over the edge, and the ash creatures fell off me, but I still burned as I fell to a fiery pit below me. I grew closer and closer, my gut in my charred throat, and-

I bolted up in bed, awake, and grasped at my charred arm. I felt nothing, the panic spreading even further, and at last, I remembered where I was. I wasn't in that burning factory, I wasn't falling into a chasm filled with fire, I was on Asgard. I was in one of the few places where Outlier couldn't touch me. Even better, I was in a luxurious bed in an even more luxurious bedroom.

I was safe.

I hugged my knees to my chest, comforted by my own warmth, and I breathed deeply, as if enough breaths could wash away my fears and the feeling of burning alive. I held myself like that for a long time, and after a long while, I convinced myself to crawl out of bed to the balcony.

I stayed out there until my nightmare merely became one among the thousands I'd had over the years. Instead of staying buried under the covers, I inhaled the ocean and lively city below me. Finally, I allowed myself to glance at the Bifrost and to acknowledge the dread of my return to Earth. I rubbed my temples, looked around one more time, and coaxed myself back inside my room to shower and put on the spare set of clothes I always kept in my backpack.

In the bathroom, I carefully brushed my hair, trying to perfectly place a strand of stray hair. I smoothed out my clothes, and I smiled at how my simple grey top made my eyes a stormy color. I caught myself wondering if Loki would notice that, but I shook my head at the silliness of it. It didn't matter how he viewed me; I was leaving again, likely to never see him again. He'd forget me an hour after I left. This little adventure was fun, but it probably took more than someone like me to make a lasting impression.

Just before I left, I wrote a quick note and left it on the bed.

My backpack on one shoulder, I walked through the halls, occasionally asking a guard to make sure I was headed in the right direction, when Loki appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to whisk me away.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asked, and I could have sworn I glimpsed a sliver of disappointment in his eyes.

"I left a note for one of the servants to give you. I thought you were probably sleeping, or you were off on some 'princely duties.' I didn't want to bother you," I replied.

"How considerate," came his clipped response, and the gentle harshness of those two words send a chill through me.

"I won't apologize for leaving, Loki."

"As you shouldn't."

"Then why do I feel like I should?"

"Do you want to leave?" he asked.

"Regardless of what I want, I don't have much of a choice. I have to go to work today, and if I don't, there will be repercussions that I can't afford."

"Somehow I can't imagine you working a regular human job, given… well, given that you're not a human."

"I didn't say I worked a regular job. I mean, to me, it's normal, but I haven't exactly lived an average life."

"What do you do?"

"That's classified."

Loki huffed. "You work for S.H.I.E.L.D., don't you? On the day we met, you were going to talk to Nick Fury about something."

I bit my lip. "Yeah, I do."

At last, we reached the entrance to the castle, and to my surprise, Loki kept walking with me. Instead of saying goodbye to me right then and there, we continued toward the Bifrost.

"Just because you have to leave doesn't mean you can't come back," Loki proffered.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I've seen the way you look at Asgard and the people here," he said. "It's clear you don't want to leave forever."

"And what's in it for you? Where's the catch? I have a hard time believing you'd let me come back only because I like it here."

"Perhaps not a catch, but I certainly have a proposition for you: you come back, and we continue our conversation."

"I thought we'd finished our little talk, Loki."

"Do you want it to be over?"

I stopped in the middle of the path to look at him. My eyes latched onto his, both of us studying each other, waiting for the other to make the next move.

"You know, I still don't understand you or your fascination with me," I challenged.

"I've told you everything."

"But why? Why do I matter? You have this whole world around you, this beautiful planet and city, and thousands of years ahead of you, but you stop to care about someone so inconsequential you barely talked to two months ago. I don't get it."

"For one thing, you listen," he said softly.

"I only listen because it's better for the both of us that I don't speak! The more people learn about me, the further away they run," I shook my head. "I'm not some great person. Hell, I'm not even a decent one."

"And I am?"

"I-I don't know enough about you to say that. I know you've done some reprehensible things, but at this point, people like you just don't get to me."

"'People like me?'"

"You weren't the one behind the Battle of New York; that was Thanos. Nat told me that. And you still have done some reprehensible things, but I can't help but wonder if that was really you. Or maybe that was really you. All I know is, you are not the same 'big bad' everyone on Earth makes you out to be. So no, you don't get to me in the way some other people do."

"Have I really ruined my reputation in such a way?" Loki jested after a moment's pause.

"A little bit, yeah," I laughed.

We reached the iridescent bridge leading up to the Bifrost, and I peered down at the waters surrounding us.

"I can come back in a week, maybe. That's at the very earliest, though," I suggested.

"One week," he agreed.

Chapter Six

In the little bits of time free time I had before I returned, I caught myself playing our conversations over and over again. Sometimes I imagined Loki sitting next to me, pestering me about whatever little thing he wanted to talk about. It was almost nice, yet painful at the same time-having someone I almost thought of him as my friend, but a friendship that would never last. It gave the days an edge, my loneliness barely masked by a sense of companionship. But then the week was over, and I was back on Asgard, talking to Loki.

"So. 'Our talk?'" I was the first to bring up the reason why I'd returned to Asgard as Loki and I strolled through the gardens of the Asgardian palace. At least, I pretended our talk was why I was here. It wasn't that I wasn't interested in the talk, but I couldn't lie. Asgard was something to get my mind off my job and the fact that Outlier was running amok on Earth.

Loki paused for a few moments to think before he spoke. "At Stark's cabin, you seemed to try to hide yourself away. Why?"

"I was nervous, for one thing. And I guess… I sort of felt out of place there. He was the Earth's greatest defender, and Steve and Thor were also were the Avengers. My efforts to be better are lost in comparison to them."

"You're worse than Tony Stark? Agent Romanoff?"

"Don't talk about her like that," I bit out, and in turn, Loki stiffened, sensing he'd hit a nerve. "It's just that… she was really the only person who cared about me after I escaped from Outlier. She taught me what the real world was like, the ordinary stuff people do that I'd only read about. She taught me everything: how to hack, how to cook-although she was pretty shitty at that-even how to drive. When I left to see the world for myself, she called me everyday. But I never came back, and we grew apart. So yes, she once did bad things, but with all that she did as an Avenger and what she did for me… just don't talk about her badly."

I took a breath. "But to answer your question, my efforts to be better are lost in comparison to what they've done to be better. I don't know how many deaths Stark Industries is responsible for, but I can safely say I've killed more people than Nat did for the KGB and the number of people who died in the Battle of New York combined. Besides, they both sacrificed themselves for half of the fucking universe. As far as I'm concerned, they've paid off their debts. But I haven't paid off mine."

Loki thought for a moment. "Are you saying what I've done isn't as bad as what you've done because you've hurt more people?"

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yes."

"If you viewed what you did as contemptible, then why did you do it?"

I looked down at the cobblestone path we walked on. As much as I wanted to turn to another topic, I couldn't bring myself to do so.

"Indoctrination, at first. When that stopped working, Outlier turned to torture, a threat over my head. And when I didn't care about them hurting me anymore, they used one of my brothers as leverage. Even when they didn't hold him over my head, he kept me from rebelling."

"Show me," Loki quietly offered.

"Show you? I-I don't think so. That's not something anyone needs to see. I don't know why you'd want me to show you that, let alone how I could even do it."

"I won't force you to, but I have a feeling you're not the person you think you are."

"You think you can change my mind about me? How I view myself doesn't even remotely affect you."

"No, it doesn't."

"Then stop caring; it's unnerving."

Loki gave me a long look, his eyes poring over every detail of my face. It was painfully clear that for some unfathomable reason, he did care. Maybe if I showed him this one thing, then I could figure out why he did.

"Fine," I relented.

"Give me your hand," Loki stopped in the middle of the path and extended his left hand to me.

"What? No," I protested.

"Don't be a child."

"I'm not being a child; I'm being a cautious adult."

"You're cautious of a hand?" Loki critically raised his eyebrows at me. "We can't do this if you don't give me your hand."

"There's nowhere else?"

"Yes, there is, but I doubt you want me to touch your forehead any more than your hand."

Needless to say, I gave him my hand without further argument, and suddenly, I was stranded in a world I'd tried so hard to forget.

I was trapped behind a screen next to Loki, and in front of us was a hazy, grey memory. I saw everything from my own eyes, but this time, I was watching what happened rather than directing it. I was watching a memory.

It was one of my later missions, only a year or so before Faraji had died. I hung, suspended, from a device on the top of a cliff so I was positioned next to a dam that was holding back a steady river. On the other side of the dam, water thundered down a waterfall, coursing down into the foothills where a small town sat, still sleepy in the early morning. It had no idea what was coming.

A voice crackled in the earpiece of my slender helmet. "Twenty-Six, you have orders to proceed."

I ached for the people in the valley, and my pace began to quicken.

"No."

One word-just one word held all the significance in the world to Outlier.

I heard my brother scream through the earpiece, and the sound ripped through me, taking out a chunk of my heart.

_What were they doing to him?_

But I knew exactly what they were doing because they'd done the same to me before when he'd refused to comply on a mission. I could practically see him, wrists and ankles chained, held up by his arms, only kept standing by a couple of agents. He'd been given an injection, I was sure of it, and the pain that would follow was unimaginable.

I tried to block out the noise and the mental image, but there was nothing in the world I could do to ignore them.  
"Please," I heard Faraji beg, his voice barely anything more than a crude sound. "Remember. Just give in."

Tears pricked at my eyes. "I can't. I can't do this again," I told him.

"Eira, please."

His voice had grown weaker, and then he shrieked again.

I saw Faraji again. He merely writhed as he was held up, hungrily gasping for air, but there wasn't enough. He desperately craved for an end to this-for _me_ to end this-and for the easy high he knew he'd get if I just submitted.

"Stop," I pleaded, the lack of air leaving my voice at a croak. "I'll do it."

I reluctantly laid one hand on the stone dam, and I sent multiple pulses through the whole of the dam, shaking its integrity. One by one, cracks began to fracture the walls. As tremors shook the dam, vibrations started in my palm, and reverberating throughout my arm. It was my turn to scream as my fingers popped violently. My gloved fingers were bent at odd angles-not broken, but dislocated.

_It's not too late to stop_, a voice urged in the corner of my mind. _Stop thinking about the pain you'll feel if you don't do this; focus on the pain you'll cause. Outlier doesn't own you._

I laughed bitterly, and thought in return, _If they didn't own me, I wouldn't be here right now._

I shakily lifted my other hand and slammed thousands of pounds of water against the dam, again and again, and water sprayed out of the fissures. I didn't stop some of the water from slinging against me. Why should I stop it? The villagers wouldn't be given the mercy of escaping the oncoming flood. I could face a sliver of the damage all on my own. I wanted to show myself I could withstand pain, that I was stronger than the puppet Outlier had turned me into, but in reality, I just wanted to feel something real.

With one final onslaught of water, the dam creaked and gave in to the will of the river. Huge chunks of stone plunged to the bottom of the riverbed, and the river cascaded, free.

The surge of water crashed past me, not limiting itself to the riverbed by any means. The flood tore trees in half, or it completely unearthed the tree trunks and their roots. Plants were swept away by the current, to later be obliterated by other debris or just the force of the water itself. It was so tempting to walk into the river, to be devoured by the current so I could never hurt anyone again.

But I was lifted up, unharmed in comparison to the damage the townspeople would face in only moments, although I certainly wasn't unscathed. On one hand, my fingers were swollen and crooked. I tried to flex my fingers, but my joints and muscles were stiff, and the movement only brought more pain. On my right hand and arm, the entire extremity was swollen, yet numb from past injuries.

Mercifully, the memory ended, and I returned to the real world. I was still holding Loki's hand, and I tugged it out of his grasp to wipe away the tears running down my face.

"That was the worst fucking movie I've ever seen. The worst 4D experience ever," I tried to joke, but we both felt how hollow the words were.

Loki stayed silent beside me, and I could have sworn I glimpsed a glimmer of pain in his eyes.

"Did you… did you feel the pain?" I asked, avoiding his gaze.

"Yes."

The word didn't even sound like a word, but rather a low, almost gutted noise.

"I could feel it too, and I haven't felt anything in my hands for years," I said quietly. "And could you hear my thoughts too?"

He nodded.

"I tried to warn you earlier. My mind is not a place to run around in."

"Your mind is…. I'm not traumatized by your mind; I simply don't understand it."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't expect you to understand the things I've done. We both have done regrettable things, but I think our actions have come out of different places."

"That's not exactly what I mean. I may not be proud of some of my past, but that doesn't mean I'll punish myself for not being the person I am now. Why should I hold the person I was eleven years ago to the same standards I do now? People change. We grow."

"That's a nice sentiment, but the majority of what happened was still my fault. I can't lie to myself about that."

"Being born into a deadly organization was your fault?" Loki scrutinized me.

"No, but continuing to kill for them after I learned how corrupt they are _is_ my fault."

Loki held out his hand to me again.

"Oh no. I'd rather not relive another of my memories right now. Still recovering from the last one," I argued.

"Not one of your memories; it's one of mine."

I raised an eyebrow at him. He was crazy. But I took his hand anyway.

Chapter Seven

This time, I was living in Loki's horror, not my own. He stood shock-still beside me, jaw clenched as he was transfixed by the dusky memory before us.

Loki had fallen to the ground, breathing raggedly while he struggled to regain his composure. Blood stung his opened skin as it ran down his forehead to drip onto the rocky floor beneath him. He propped himself up with freshly burnt and bloody arms to face the person who'd knocked him down.

The creature standing over Loki was humanoid, but his face was anything but. His blue-violet skin was wrinkled, and he grimaced down at Loki with slim, fanged teeth. Over his face was a golden mask and veil over his eyes.

"Get up," the creature hissed. "He's here."

Slowly, Loki pushed himself off the ground, and straightened. He tried to calm his breathing, to make it appear as though he was still in control and not as affected as he was, but his efforts were to no avail. He carried himself confidently, even though he barely had enough energy to even stand.

Loki looked around him at a rocky, barren landscape in the middle of space for movement, and from out of the shadows of a cliff strode an enormous man. He was a couple feet taller than Loki, and several times as big. The man had lavender skin, oddly complemented by his elaborately-layered purple and golden armor. His chin was etched with long, vertical lines that nearly blended in with the deep scars on his face. He held a gold scepter with a shining blue orb near the end of it, but it looked like a toothpick in his behemothic hand.

"You said he was ready," the man said to the creature, in reference to Loki. "He is broken."

"Almighty Thanos," the being crooned, and a chill ran down my back at the name, "he may seem broken, yet he is the conqueror you require. He is but a sliver of the whining demigod who fell through the wormhole months ago."

Thanos slowly approached Loki, gauging his appearance as he walked, and Loki slightly quivered, not entirely out of fear, but also from exhaustion.

"Bring out the Chitauri," Thanos ordered to the creature, and the lesser being slipped away into the shadows. Thanos sat down on a rock as he addressed Loki, "The Other is a faithful servant, but sometimes I believe he is too eager to please me and judges people too kindly. For your sake, I hope you are as ready as he claims you to be. It would be… _unfortunate_ to see months of progress go to waste."

"I assure you, I won't disappoint," Loki promised, daring to look Thanos in the eyes.

"The Other may have broken you too much for you to live up to that."

"He hasn't."

The creature returned, who I assumed was the Other, along with several aliens, all menacing beasts, hunched over and ready to kill.

"Kill him," Thanos ordered the aliens, and they charged at Loki.

Loki didn't hesitate to spring into action. He flicked his wrists, and green light washed over his palms, leaving behind two pristine daggers in his hands. He threw the blades, and they both landed squarely in two monsters' throats. Loki's body shimmered, and a dozen copies of Loki raced toward the beasts while the real Loki slunk away from the chaos, and shifted into one of the aliens.

Loki's skin turned grey and tough, his muscles became sculpted, and he grew talons. He ripped up one of the copies of Loki just for show, and when all the other aliens were distracted, he turned on one of the beasts. He slashed through the beast's throat, and sickly-grey blood splashed onto his chest. He then lifted up the monster's body and hurled it a pair of aliens, who toppled off the floating rock into the abyss of space below. One by one, whether with his illusions or his shapeshifted body, Loki slaughtered each of the remaining aliens.

When all of the beasts were dead, he dissipated his illusions and shifted into his original, torn-up, and utterly exhausted body. Loki stayed standing only by sheer determination to prove himself worthy, and Thanos stalked over to him. After an excruciating wait, Thanos handed Loki the gleaming scepter, a sign of approval. As Thanos turned away from him, Loki slunk onto the ground, only able to remain sitting up by leaning against a stone behind him.

The Other appeared before Loki.

"Your presentation was impressive, boy, but you haven't won Earth yet. And if you fail him…" the Other grasped Loki's shoulder and white hot pain burned out of the Other's palm. "This will be nothing compared to what you will face."

The Other released Loki, and Loki jerked away from him, too tired to do anything else.

We slipped out of the memory back into the magnificent gardens, far away from the terrors of both of our memories.

Again, I was the first to break the silence. "After I met you, I couldn't quite understand how you could have worked for Thanos, but now… now, it makes more sense. Torture and fear are excellent motivators."

"It was more than that. The scepter Thanos gave me held the Mind Stone. Before I was given it, the scepter was used on me to see into my mind. The Other preyed upon my memories, twisting some to his advantage, or completely changing others. I was still the God of Mischief, merely with different convictions: to conquer, to claim my birthright. The part of me I haven't lost over the years, however, is my devilish charm."

"I see you also haven't lost your humility."

"Never. I emulate humility," Loki said sarcastically.

I laughed quietly, and it felt good to relax a bit when talking about such heavy matters.

"Do you think I'm evil?" he asked.

I paused for a moment, and when I answered, I answered truthfully.

"No, I don't."

"And yourself?"

I had some hesitation in answering his first question, but his second altogether stopped me. "Maybe. Maybe I'm not evil, but I am not an honorable person."

He chuckled cynically and shook his head. "You are truly complex. So quick to judge yourself but not others. It's usually the other way around. Why?"

"I can't afford to not hold myself to those standards because of what I've done. It's not like I can just apologize for what I've done, and everything will magically be fixed. An apology is not equivalent to a life, let alone seven thousand lives. I have to work harder than just an apology; I have to make a true difference. And yes, my past is defined by a blood trail, and so will my present and future because I remember and will remember what I've done. My present and future will just be marked differently. They'll be marked by me trying to right my wrongs, not make things worse or just ignoring everything altogether. So I have to remember what I've learned, and I sure as hell can't forget what I've done, and this way… well, I'm making sure I don't make the same mistakes again."

"You can remember and do better without torturing yourself."

It was my turn to shake my head. "Every time I remember what I've done, that _is_ torture."

"If you were as bad as you say you are, you wouldn't be so haunted by the things you regret."

Had anyone else said that, I would've brushed them off, but the fact that Loki, of all people, had said it, felt… different. My instincts told me I shouldn't trust anything he said, but I believed him for some godforsaken reason. Perhaps knowing he had nothing to gain from saying that had something to do with it, but the calm which had filled my chest and the rest of my body told a different story. And the way Loki kept looking at me told me the same story. I only wished I wasn't so scared of those inevitable endings.

Chapter Eight

We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing simpler things that didn't put such heavy burdens on our shoulders. Loki explained his duties as the Prince, which mostly concerned diplomatic affairs and attempting to restore the ruined balance between the Nine Realms after everyone killed in the Decimation was brought back. I, on the other hand, did not go into the details of my job. Even though the focus of my job was on an entirely different planet, I didn't want to jeopardize my assignment.

Loki offered a guest room in the castle for me, and this time, I didn't hesitate to spend the night. I was more than willing to spend as much time on Asgard as I could get away with. We made an arrangement for me to return in a week-and-a-half. Loki seemed to droop a bit when I told him it would be that long, but I had to make my assignment a priority, no matter how much I rather would've stayed with him.

After a week-and-a-half of work that was exhausting in every way, I found myself wandering back into the entry hall of the Asgardian castle. From one of the many hallways the entrance opened to emerged a tall woman with long, dark brown hair, who was addressing two of the palace guards. Her armor matched the blue-grey and gold armor of the soldiers beside her, but rather than a grey cape, hers was a brilliant gold, setting her out apart from all the other guards I'd seen. She noticed me as entered the grand hall, and promptly stopped.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyeing me up and down, clearly trying to determine whether or not I was a threat.

"Eira," I answered quickly, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

I was about to explain everything, but Loki entered from one of the other halls.

"Sif, stop harassing my guest," he said coolly. "She's here because I invited her."

Loki and I looked at one another, both taking one another in gladly, and I relaxed slightly.

Sif crossed her arms. "Why wasn't I informed of the arrival of a human guest? It is common procedure to notify me when we have foreign visitors."

"You haven't been on Asgard the last three weeks for me to tell you."

"She's been here for three weeks?" Sif asked, again giving me a speculative glance, one that could only come with whatever assumptions she was making about how much time I'd spent on Asgard as Loki's guest.

"No, she's been here twice in the last three weeks; three times if you count today," Loki elaborated.

"Alright," she sighed, and turned to me. "I am Lady Sif, General of the Einherjar."

Given her commanding presence around the guards, I assumed the soldiers were formally referred to as the Einherjar.

"It's an honor to meet you," I told Sif.

She nodded curtly. "May I have a word with you? Privately?"

She led me down one of the hallways before speaking to me again.

"I will not stop Loki from courting someone or acquiring a lover-" Sif began, but she was cut off by my laugh.

"We are not-Loki is not courting me, and I am _not_ his lover," I stressed as much as I could.

"The looks you gave one another when he arrived imply something more."

We weren't together by any means, but if Sif could clearly see I was beginning to feel something more for Loki than I should for a confidante, then surely he could see it, too. It wasn't as though he was hiding how he felt, either, to be honest.

"I don't see how that is any of your business."

"It may not be my business, but I would be remiss if I did not warn you about him. Loki's history is bloody and corrupt-do not mistake him as innocent."

"I know his past, or a lot of it, anyway. Trust me, I don't underestimate him. I can protect myself if the need arises, but I don't think he's the person he once was. If he were, I wouldn't be here right now. And if he does act that way again, I will not hesitate to leave."

"Good."

I couldn't get out of that uncomfortable interaction fast enough. Thankfully, Loki wasted little time in going separate ways from Lady Sif and the Einherjar guards. To my surprise, instead of going down the center hallway to the gardens as we usually did, he led me out the main entrance to the front gates.

He paused for a moment to gesture at me, and green light shone over me for a minute. I glanced down at myself to see that I was no longer in my clothes; I was in a long, wine red, Asgardian dress. Around my waist rested a gold belt that matched a cuff on my arm, and sandals replaced my combat boots.

I stared at him bluntly. "Really? Are my human clothes that ugly that you felt the need to change them?"

"No, they're just not appropriate for where we're going. They would catch even more attention than I will just by myself."

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"The city."

"Really?" a grin spread across my face.

"You seem excited," he said, but it came out more as a question.

"Well, yeah. I've only seen Asgard from walking to the castle or from the castle itself. It's gorgeous from afar, so I bet it's even more beautiful on the street level."

Impossibly, it was. The buildings were made of ornately carved white stone or striking metals. The city had the charm of both medieval European towns and modern cities filled to the brim with skyscrapers. Dozens upon dozens of little shops or restaurants lined the smoothly paved, narrow streets. Eventually, we came across a marketplace brimming with Asgardians buzzing from stand to stand, a few people eating at tables placed at the edge of the market.

As we wandered around the market, I watched the people going about their lives. Talking, laughing, smiling. All seemed to be happy, or in a good mood at the very least. It was transfixing to see them go about their daily business, and I couldn't tear myself away from the simplicity of everything. We sat down at one of the tables, and everyone's voices and laughter faded into a calm buzz. For the first time in years, I wasn't scared of Outlier getting the best of me. I wasn't thinking about the people I'd failed by choosing myself over them. I wasn't even angry at myself for not doing more, for not being better. I was just… peaceful.

After a while, I gazed over at Loki to see him looking at the people around us, too. A part of me wanted to turn back away, to take in the city around us, but I was utterly captivated. The sun shone down on his face, casting him in a glorious light I was drunk on. My eyes lingered on his strong jawline, his defined cheekbones, everything. His sapphire tunic intensified his blue eyes to a stunning shade, and-

Loki turned back my way to see me staring at him, and I immediately blinked away, pretending to be fascinated with the business of the market.

"You like it here, don't you?" he asked abruptly, and I almost fell off my seat. I was so self-conscious about whether or not he'd caught me staring at him that even him saying something to me had put me on edge.

"Is it really so obvious?"

"You haven't said anything for the last twenty minutes, so yes, I'd say it's quite obvious."

I laughed. "Sometimes I'm not so good at hiding what I feel, I guess. It's just… all these people seem so happy. Compared to Earth right now, only a couple months after everyone was brought back, well, it's completely different back there. I'm sure Asgard is having similar issues, but your people are still finding a way to healthily deal with all that's happened. This place is truly remarkable."

"Asgardians are excellent at hiding their feelings or important matters if they think they'll benefit from it," Loki's eyes darkened somberly.

"Anyone in particular?"

Loki's eyebrows pinched together in a silent question.

"Oh come on. I just watched your face change into the epitome of a 'rainy disposition.' It's obvious you were thinking of a particular person or incident."

"My family was never good at being open, for one thing. Except my mother."

"I don't think you've ever mentioned her before."

He smiled grimly. "There are some people I could never hope to properly explain because what I say could not possibly do them justice. She was one of them."

"Can you not explain what she was like because she was a good person or a bad person?"

"She was a wonderful person. She was my mother, even if she hadn't been the one to give birth to me. She always was."

He looked into the crowd again, distant even though he was sitting right next to me.

Chapter Nine

After an afternoon spent in the city, we'd wound up sitting on a bench in a park, not far from the path, but far enough away to avoid stares.

"Earlier, I said Asgardians can be excellent at hiding information if they deem it necessary," Loki began.

"Oh god. Is this the part where you lay out your deep, dark secret that you were waiting to rope me in before you told me it so I wouldn't run away? What is it? Don't tell me you have mummified puppies or something in the dungeons of your castle. Because that's horrifying."

"Do you always joke when someone is about to tell you something serious?"

"Sorry," I half-smiled sheepishly, and started rambling. "I don't usually joke this much. I've just had a good day, is all. But you were about to tell me something, and… I'm going to let you do that now."

"As I was saying, my father, Odin, was one of those Asgardians. When I was a baby, the Asgardians were at war with the Jotunns-led by the king of each: Odin and Laufey, respectively. The conflict was horrific, and by the end of it, the Jotuns' population had been... significantly reduced, so to speak. Jotunheim was in ruins. Odin found me, only a few months old at the time, abandoned in a temple to die. Laufey's son. I could shapeshift even from a young age, and apparently, when I looked in Odin's face, I shifted my appearance into that of an Asgardian. And I was raised alongside Thor as a prince, my true identity hidden from me for the sake of political advantage."

I peered down at my lap, trying to find something meaningful to say back, but I took his barely outstretched hand instead.

The memory opened on a skirmish on a freezing, barren wasteland. Surrounding Loki was a group of Asgardians, including a younger Sif and Thor, all fighting blue-skinned giants with menacing red eyes-Frost Giants. Loki faired well, using a mixture of his illusions and knives to fend off the Jotuns, until one of the giants gripped his left arm.

The chinks of armor on his arm shuddered off from the cold of the Jotun's touch, exposing Loki's skin, which turned blue, and absorbed the cold chill that should've frozen his skin. Loki's stomach sank in dread as he realized he wasn't hurt like he was supposed to be; he was something more than just Asgardian. He just might be one of the monsters he was taught to fear, and that thought frightened him down to the bone. Hands trembling dangerously, he stabbed the Jotun who had touched him.

The memory blurred into another.

Loki stared down at his hands, hauntingly blue. And his father approached behind him, too late to stop his son from discovering what had been hidden from him for centuries. Loki spoke, but his words were faint, drowned out by his overwhelming emotions and thoughts which plagued his mind.

But one clear thought rang out above the clamor in his head: _I will never be his equal._

With that idea, his head was filled with a cacophony of different emotions, blinding him from reason in the moment. Betrayal, anger, devastation, rejection, hopelessness burned in his vision, rendering him incapable of seeing beyond the tears in his eyes. It was an ugly, raw part of him he'd never shown me before, a piece of him which I'd seen in my own life at the most inopportune times.

Loki shouted at his father, and Odin yelled back, building jagged tension between the two, ready to implode at any moment. And it did.

Odin collapsed, suddenly struck ill, and Loki stood over him, shocked and confused as to how things had spun out of control so quickly.

Then we were back on the bench in a lonely park, far from the reaches of that ever-consuming set of memories.

"That… that is why New York happened," he explained, but that statement only left with me questions.

"I thought the Other used the scepter to change your memories, and make you into that person."

Loki hesitated. "Not exactly. The Other did manipulate my memories, but he did it in a way to truly bring out the dark part of myself: the one who felt cheated by the simple incident of the race I was born as. Don't fool yourself into thinking I wasn't the type of person you despise was only manufactured."

I stared at my hands, but I realized that's not where I needed me to look. I cautiously raised my eyes to his. "People change, Loki. If I hadn't, I'd be rotting in a jail cell right now. You probably would be too."

"Perhaps."

"Loki, you would be punished for your crimes, wouldn't you? Wasn't that why Thor took you back to Asgard after New York?"

"About that…."

Loki began diving into fantastical stories of his life before he fell through the wormhole, and his adventures with his brother after he returned to Asgard as a war criminal. I sank into his words, and though I had to shake my head at some points, I just couldn't find it in myself to judge him. I saw him truthfully without tricks or jokes, and he was just as broken as me.

Chapter Ten

Two mornings later, I awoke in yet another hotel room on Earth, trapped in a life I wish I didn't have to live in. Maybe one day I'd let myself retire, let myself always have the same bed to wake up in. A simple dream, yet so unreachable.

I opened my small suitcase, the only other luggage I ever took with me anywhere besides my backpack, to pull out a thin slice of vibranium: the single most-expensive piece of tech S.H.I.E.L.D. had given me. I laid down the piece of vibranium on my nightstand, and tapped the surface of it twice. Immediately, a blue hologram appeared featuring three tabs to choose from, and I selected the one with which Atun, from inside Outlier, would be able to use to contact me.

Every three days, at eleven a.m., we communicated, and he relayed the intel he'd been able to get to me. But today, he missed his eleven a.m. mark. We'd prepared in advance for a changing of his schedule, but he missed his next three communication marks, too.

All throughout the day while I worked, I kept checking the comm link for some sign of Atun-but there was nothing. Finally, when I realized he wasn't going to contact me, it was time to make a call.

The vibranium projected a hologram of a quite surprised Maria Hill in front of me. I never called her on this line.

"Eira? This is my emergency line, so this better be something significant," she crossed her arms.

"Today is the day when I'm supposed to receive contact from Atun, but he hasn't sent anything," I reported. "I've made myself available at every back-up time, and he has failed to show any signs of being on the other end. Atun always communicates at one of our designated times, but today… there's been nothing."

"Are you suggesting something has happened to Atun?"

"I'm saying we have reason to be concerned for his safety. Outlier isn't a safe place for anyone, including its own agents."

Maria said nothing for a few minutes while she ran over her options. "The next time you capture a target, I'll send another Skrull with you to replace the one you removed. We'll have him attempt to locate Atun from within Outlier, and in the meantime, he will fill in for Atun's duties."

"You can't send in another Skrull. You should send in someone who truly knows the organization."

She sighed. "You mean you."

"I know you have the tech to disguise me."

"I'm not sending you in there. You are most valuable outside of Outlier's reaches. You have been prolific in obtaining information and exfiltrating targets. You have located three of Outlier's compounds. We can't afford to lose your expertise in the real world."

"I'm only gaining intel; I'm not actually doing anything to actively take Outlier down! Taking down their agents one by one is not enough to make a dent in Outlier when they have a few thousand agents, and those are only the ones we know about. Believe me, I don't want to willingly walk back through Outlier's front door, but this is my fight."

"Let me make one thing clear: the moment S.H.I.E.L.D. became aware of Outlier's existence, this has been S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fight. This is the burden of all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who are on this assignment, and you are merely one of them. And as an agent, you have the obligation to follow the orders of your superiors. You are fortunate to even be in this position in the first place, given your prior area of work," Maria stressed.

I gritted my teeth. "Understood, Agent Hill."

"Good. Contact me further once you've located your next target. Until then, I will give you a line to the Skrull who will replace the target. You need to give him all the information he needs to know about the inside of Outlier and the agent he will impersonate."

"There's one more thing," I said before she could end the call. "Remember the box Atun took back to Outlier when he impersonated that agent?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, during his last transmission, he sent me scans of what was in it. They were blueprints, and they must've been important, because they were only on paper. I know the prints are for some kind of machine, but I'm not an engineer. I have no idea what they're for."

"Just forward me the scans," she instructed.

I nodded and silently closed the call. I sank onto my bed in defeat, the thought of Atun missing continuing to eat away at me. How had I allowed myself to send someone else in who could get hurt while fighting my fight?

I still didn't know at the end of the week, when I solemnly watched another Skrull, Malon, take on his new persona, and walk the footsteps I should've insisted on taking straight into Outlier.

Chapter Eleven

I should have stayed on Earth to make sure I was readily available for contact in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. I needed my ritual-escape, and it was overdue. It was late in the day when I arrived on Asgard, and the sun was ready to set in a couple hours.

"Loki has been waiting for you, but he was pulled into a meeting," Heimdall told me as I walked out of the Bifrost.

I looked down but when I looked up, I wore a mask of indifference. "He's waited all day for me to finish my work; I can wait a while for him to finish his own."

I walked faster than usual as I made my way towards the mainland. I couldn't afford to waste a single moment, whether Loki was with me or not. When I reached the castle, the guards at the front entrance who were expecting my arrival simply pointed me in the direction of the dining hall. I felt guilty eating without Loki while he was stuck in a meeting, but I was tired and hungry. I'd worked all day, and I realized I'd forgotten to eat anything more substantial than a snack.

I didn't recognize anyone in the hall, and I simply took one of the few open seats. I was completely surrounded by strangers, most of them Einherjar. Many gave me confused glances as to why a human was in their midst, but a few knew who I was. Even if they did recognize me, none of the soldiers bothered to make conversation. I preferred it that way, though. It was more comfortable to not have to make forced small talk and quietly blend into the atmosphere.

Several minutes after I finished eating, Loki strode into the dining hall, looking slightly agitated. I rose from the table to go to the one person in the entire room I actually felt comfortable being around. When he saw me approaching, he seemed to deflate a little, a bit of his irritation leaving.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, and I nodded. "Good," he said, and spun on his heel out of the hall.

"Don't you need something to eat?"

"What I need is a drink."

"There is _plenty _of alcohol in the dining hall. An excessive amount, to be honest. I think there's a bit of dried beer in my hair, actually. A very drunk guard took a swig of beer, then someone said something funny… and, let me just say, the spraying radius of that guard is truly impressive. No one around me was dry after that."

He cringed. "I need harder liquor than what is in there. The servants refuse to set out hard liquor in the hall because they don't want to have to clean up the puking of hopelessly intoxicated Einherjar who can't handle anything stronger than beer."

"Bad day?" I couldn't help but wonder if it was because I'd shown up so late.

"Bad meeting. I don't particularly feel like talking about it at the moment," he added.

"Okay."

After a few minutes of walking, he led me through a door into a living room of sorts. It was a large room, with a set of couches and armchairs centered around a coffee table. Stone columns lined the white walls accented with inlaid gold knot patterns. Directly across from the entrance stood a wall completely devoted to floor-to-ceiling windows and a glass set of doors leading out to a balcony. The balcony overlooked the ocean and part of the city. It was, in a word, gorgeous.

"Is this a rec room or…" I trailed off as Loki simply walked to the set of couches, not bothering to welcome me over. I sat myself anyway on the other end of the loveseat he sat on.

"This is one of my personal rooms," he explained. Something about how this room was his own made me tense up. How many people had been in here before?

I looked around again and thought about how this was where he lived. I hadn't exactly imagined his rooms before or anything, but I hadn't imagined this.

In the coffee table before him was a set of drawers, and he pulled out a bottle of amber liquor from one of them. From another drawer he removed two shallow glasses. He poured himself a glass much higher than it was designed to be filled, and he held out the bottle to me in an offer.

"No," I said quickly. "I mean, no thank you. I don't drink."

"Why not?" he asked as he took a drink.

I laughed stiffly, and ran my fingers through my hair. "It's complicated."

"I've got time."

I was already a little riled up, but inside my mind, all of my walls went up, wanting to hide myself this. Everything else I'd told him could be used against me, emotionally speaking, but I guess I wasn't so scared of that. I've had people try to break me before, but they were never able to do that with emotions alone, no matter how deep their words dug. But this, this was something he could easily use against me, something that would snap me in two. I was ashamed that for all the time I'd spent with Loki, thoughts like this continued to pop up occasionally, but I usually pushed them on and kept moving. I didn't think Loki would do anything with this bit of information, but I had seen a part of him who was capable of betraying people. I didn't want to be one of those people. I just wanted to shy away from him, to not make myself so vulnerable.

But I swallowed down that wall of fear, and told him anyway.

"Every day at Outlier, or everyday I was strong enough to, they made me train with my powers. It was always at the end of the day, after physical training and my studies, and it broke my body down. Every day, I forced my pain into a ball so it couldn't consume me, and to help me deal with that pain so I could be their perfect little weapon, they gave me opiates after the training sessions. It was my incentive to keep going, to get that next fix, to dull that pain a little more… to hide from how I viewed myself.

"Over the years, I depended on that more and more. You see, my siblings all had the same powers, the same capabilities, everything. And of course, we had the same vulnerabilities from our gifts. When we began training, my siblings faced the same injuries and pain that I did. Several died. Then we started going on missions, and those put even more intense stresses on our bodies. Every time before one of us was sent out, we would gather them around and hold them close and wish them luck because it was more likely than not that one of them would die. Year after year, I lost more of my siblings until it was down to just Faraji and me. He was my best friend and the only person I had left, and one day he went out on a mission, and they brought him back just barely alive.

"After he…" I couldn't bring myself to say the words, even seven years after he'd died, "they showed me his body. He was utterly broken, just a shell. I could tell that the part of him that'd been my brother died long before he got to that point. Facing that much pain must have changed him because that's what happened to all of us. He'd gone over the edge of the high that once you cross, you don't come back from. You're too consumed by the urge to destroy that you hurt yourself in the process, and suddenly you're too injured to come back even once you realize what you've done. And you don't sober up in that amount of time, anyway. But even more than the fix, we'd kept going for each other. We had to stay alive, so we'd give into the high and do what they told us to, but we always pulled back from that point. And he hadn't. That day, I stopped fighting for them, but they pulled me back in with the high. And I hate the part of myself who let me do what I did just for a high."

As I'd talked, tears began falling, and I wiped them off my cheeks silently before I finished talking.

"I don't drink because when I do, I'm reminded of that person. I don't want to become obsessed with this like I was with opiates, to be so easily manipulated. So no, I don't drink."

"How did you get off it?" Loki asked.

"You just have all the questions tonight, don't you?" I sighed. Albeit wildly personal, it was a valid question. "I detoxed when I got away from Outlier, which is an even more complicated story."

He put up no objections, and I kept talking.

"Before the Snap, I had no more motivation or fight left. My brother had died a year before, and I'd long since given into the drugs. I defied their orders as best as I could, and I even tried to escape a few times, but nothing helped. I knew I'd be overpowered, as I always was, so I gave up. Then the Snap happened, and suddenly only half of the people trying to cage me were left. It was a new opportunity, and I used it. I tried to escape, but again I failed because I was too caught up in the excitement of the moment to actually plan ahead. After that, they made sure to give me no opportunities to escape. I was guarded heavier, and they limited the amount of time I was in training sessions for my gifts because those were the only times my cuffs which prevented me from using my powers were deactivated.

"Nonetheless, on my next mission, I tried something else. I didn't necessarily try to escape, but I left a message in the rubble: 'Outlier did this, and they won't stop. Look beyond what you think you see.' I didn't care what they'd do to me, but the torture afterwards… my body was barely a body. They didn't send me out for a long time after that, and in the meantime, they 'demoted' me. While I was the only one left of my generation, I wasn't the only person Outlier created with my set of gifts. From my own and my siblings' DNA, Outlier had created more children with our powers, but the kids could use them without hurting themselves. Outlier made me train these children in replacement of my personal doctor and the specialist in my powers, Andrea Kathan, who'd died in the Decimation.

"I went on four more missions for Outlier in the first three years after the Snap, each time leaving the same kind of warnings to the public. But on my last mission for them, a woman intercepted me. She told me she knew what Outlier had done over the years, and she offered me an escape. Her name was Natasha Romanoff. And I went with her. I woke up a few days later in a prison, in the middle of withdrawal. Once I was on the other side of acute withdrawal, I saw Natasha again, and she gave me another proposition.

"She told me that if I went on the straight-and-narrow and helped her take down Outlier, she'd let me go once it was all over, but if I didn't comply, then I'd be handed over to some government whose country I'd hurt. I'd pay for my crimes, probably with my life. Even without the threat of prison or death, I would have agreed to take down Outlier. But for all I'd done, I thought death was a worthy price."

I held out my hand to him, and we disappeared into one of the darkest caverns of my mind.

Chapter Twelve

I'd always known I would probably die in the Outlier compound I was raised in, but even on the night I'd planned to die, the facility seemed the worst place to leave this world.

The compound was huge, still crawling with agents even after the Snap took out half of them. When we had first arrived, Nat and I had stuck together, but we quickly separated, her taking on the main intelligence room, whereas I decided to go to the heart of the facility. I knew he'd be in the base room, where surveillance was operated. From this one room, you could see every room, shut the outer doors, close off sections of the compound, and more. It was the perfect place for Benjamin Raugh to hide out in the midst of an attack. He was always one to stay on the sidelines When I was training, he'd overseen my progression, even though he'd never done anything himself. He'd always been next to me when I was given the pain drug that tortured me, whether it was a punishment or just a way to use me as leverage against siblings so they'd carry out their missions. He'd always been there to see me at my worst moments. I was glad to finally be there for his.

I turned off my earpiece before I entered the room, not wanting Nat to hear what I was about to do. With a wave of my hand, I'd ripped the heavy metal door off its hinges, and Benjamin stood in the middle of the room, utterly powerless against me, even though he knew I was coming.

"It was a nice try," he condescended. "Shame that your little friend will have to die alongside you."

"I don't know. I'd say we're doing pretty well, wouldn't you? We've fought our way through everyone who's approached us. At the rate we're going, it won't take long to take control of the rest of the compound."

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you. I released the trainees. You may be able to face them, but your new friend won't stand a chance."

The trainees were the other powered children. They hadn't reached the point in their training to be as strong as me, but Benjamin was right. Nat wouldn't be able to take them.

I glanced at the wall of monitors behind him. I saw the two dozen or so children walking down one of the hallways in the direction of Nat. On the wall next to me was a giant touchscreen map of the facility.

I walked over to the map, but Benjamin approached me, menace gleaming in his beady eyes. He raised his fist to land a blow on me, but I ducked and grabbed his extended his arm, painfully twisting it. He screamed, and I swung a leg behind his knees, knocking him off his feet. I bent over him, and punched him square in the jaw, sending him sprawling on the cold concrete beneath him.

I returned my attention to the map, and I selected the stretch of hallway the trainees were heading down. In a few clicks, I had the whole hallway put into hard lockdown. Nat was safe. But I wasn't

A hand grabbed the back of my head and slammed my face against the map, spraying a few drops of blood on the clean, white screen. I clutched my forehead and spun around to face Benjamin. He towered over me and pinned my wrists against the screen behind me.

I rammed my knee into his groin, my aim flawless. He doubled over in pain, and his graying hair fell into his eyes. I turned to the metal door I'd ruined and pulled long strips out of the frames. Led by my hands, the strips wrapped around his wrists and ankles, and kept him in place on the floor after I slammed each piece of metal securely into the concrete floor.

Finally, I knelt over him, the last scrap of metal I'd summoned safely in my hand.

"You deserve to burn for everyone who's dead because of you," I spat at him, watching the end of the metal in my hand grow sharp.

He laughed, his voice distorted by pain. "You think I'm the monster? Wow, we really did a number on you. No, Twenty-six, I'm not the monster. You are. You chose your life over thousands. I didn't make that choice for you."

My heartstrings tugged, and I struggled to keep my face unchanged.

_I know that already_, I thought, but turned the tables on him anyway. I wasn't going to let him enjoy his final moments.

"I could've been used for good, but _you_ made me do all those things. Don't try and deflect the blame like you always do!"

He rolled his eyes. "I guess some of us are just delusional. If you kill me and go back out there, then what will you be? A hero for taking down a system, or a villain for killing so many people? You won't have a home out there, just like you never had one in here. You'll have nothing. I saw how you looked at the Black Widow. She's not your family. She's not even your friend. She's temporary, just like whatever home you'll think you'll find. Your pain won't end with killing me," he glanced at the deadly point of my makeshift knife.

"That's the thing, though. The pain never ends; I know that. And not just for me. Certainly not for the pain of seven thousand."

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Your casualty number never hit seven thousand."

"It's about to."

I plunged the metal into his chest, and I left him to bleed out on the floor. I had other things to do than to watch him die.

I stared at the wall of monitors, focusing on one particular video feed that recorded the database room Nat was in. I turned my earpiece back on, and I barely had to fake the fear in my voice.

"Natasha… you need to get out of here. Now," I lied, letting my voice crack a little. "I'm in the control room of the compound, and there's a bomb running underneath the entirety of the building. I tried to stop him… but the whole building is going to blow in a matter of minutes."

"What? I'm not close enough to one of the exits to get out. And what about the trainees? We decided to bust them out." Natasha urged. "You have to get out, too."

"Yeah, I'm working on that," I said, looking at the image of the database room.

I formed a fist with my hand, and ripped the ceiling and earth above the room out above her, creating a giant whole in the ceiling for her to escape through. I watched her grab a gun from her waistband and shoot it aboveground, firing a hook attached to a line. The line pulled her aboveground, safe from my oncoming rampage.

I went back to the wall, and pulled up all the barriers between the hallways except for the one holding in the children. I didn't open a hole in the ceiling above them out of fear that their little brainwashed minds would make them turn against Natasha. I decided just to keep them trapped for a bit, and they'd be able to be detained later.

I stepped over Benjamin's still body on my way out of the room to perhaps the worst area in the entire building. It was hard to choose a least-favorite room after having hated nearly every moment in the place, but the medical bay had always held a special place of dread in my heart. Even for as much as I hated that place, my chest ached for what I knew was waiting there for me.

Along the way, I came across a few agents. They didn't last for very long. I ran through the glass doors of the medical bay, and started clearing shelves as I searched for what I wanted-no, what I _needed_.

I pored over the rows of pills, and-

There.

They stood in a standard orange prescription bottle, waiting just for me. I popped open the lid and poured several of the white pills into my hand. I formed some water to help swallow down the pills, and before long, a wave of euphoria swept through me, easing any pain. I just hoped it would help to keep the pain at bay.

I chucked the open bottle at a wall, sending the remaining pills flying all over the storage room. I laughed at the sight for no reason other than for knowing I was about to finally let Outlier pay.

But I heard a crackle in my earpiece. "Eira, where are you? What are you doing?" Nat demanded.

"What I should've done ten years ago," I said calmly as I turned off my earpiece.

And I left the world to burn.

Flames shot out of my right hand, the one my training had always taught me to use for fire, and it began consuming everything around me. I slowly walked out of the medical bay, the flames following me obediently, yet still daring to lick at my heels.

The fire spread out from me, down hallways and under doors, and that's when the screaming started. The blaze fed on the bodies of fallen agents who weren't quite dead, or it preyed on the agents that Nat and I hadn't gotten to yet.

A quick glance at my hand told me the burning wasn't fast enough to cover the entire building before I died. I strained and clenched my teeth, but I broke the bonds on my left hand, and fire crackled to life on my palm. I bit my lip as I felt the first wave of pain. These nerves had never died, unlike the ones on my other hand. I was reliving hell all over again.

Nevertheless, the fire strengthened in size and heat, incinerating the world around me. Still, it wasn't enough.

I looked up toward the ceiling and with every footstep, the metal beams keeping the ceilings and walls intact began to bend and break.

My arms burned in pure agony, tortured by invisible flames, but I continued. My legs grew heavy, the full impact of my injuries tiring and weighing me down, but I continued. My lungs staggered from the effort of maintaining clean air around me, but I continued. My throat ached from screaming in pain, but still, I continued.

At last, I came to the point where I couldn't walk any more. I fell to the floor, my back protesting at putting such pressure on the burns I laid on. I turned over my hands, and I nearly threw up at the sight. In missions, my hands were always hidden by gloves, so I could never see the damage of the burns, but this was what I'd seen in my nightmares before.

My hands were charred and dark brown, the skin long blistered-over, but at least I couldn't feel my hands or forearms anymore. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming as my burns crawled up my face into my nose. The burns were only a couple inches away from my eyes, and I hazily realized how little time I had left. As I sank back onto the concrete floor, I knew I didn't want my scorched hands and this wretched place to be the last images in my mind before the burns got so bad as to kill me. I supposed it was a miracle I was even awake at this point, but then again, years of torture had primed me for this.

So I used most of what was left of me to rip open a hole in the ceiling and layers of dirt over me. I managed to interrupt my now-hoarse screams as I gently blew out a bit of air, and a gust of wind swept away the smoke and debris so I could get one final look at the night sky.

The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was hundreds of stars glittering in the midnight sky, providing some calm as I began to slip away. The burns passed over my eyelids, then over the rest of my head. The burns singed the hair off my scalp, and I desperately wanted to shriek and shriek, but there was no energy left in me. All through that, fire kept rolling out of palms in waves, growing weaker and weaker until they were only a few flickers dancing on my fingertips. My arms and hands were completely numb, and as I faded away, I hung onto the faint sound of crackling embers nearby. I almost thought I heard a _thwip_ and approaching footsteps, but I really didn't care.

Chapter Thirteen

After I was pulled back out of the memory, I was silent for a long time. I sank into the plush couch, trying to withdraw myself from Loki. I don't know why I'd shown him that. That was private, a memory meant to stay buried deep within me. I'd been ruthless and cold and consumed with revenge. I was everything I worked so hard to be, everything I worked hard to represent so no one would even think I was capable of killing so many people, even if they were cruel. I was especially glad he couldn't see what happened to the trainees. All dead, too, though not on purpose. They simply weren't strong enough to fight the incinerating fire which had somehow gotten through the barrier to them, likely in a vent.

"Will you say something?" Loki spoke after several minutes of silence on both parts. "You're never this quiet, and it's unnerving."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked.

"Anything."

I took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have shown you that memory. There, that qualifies as something."

He gave me a long look, one which may have not felt so pervasive had the worst of me not just been revealed.

"What do you have to lose?" he asked.

I bit my lip. "Myself."

"I don't care enough to hurt you," he took a long drink from his glass, and glanced over at where I was shrunk up in the corner of the couch, as far away from him as possible. "I know what you've been through. I can see it in your face. You may not want to be, but you're still scared of me. You've seen what I'm capable of, and deep down, you wonder if I will do that to you, too. Pull your strings. Walk all over you."

"I guess I'm just spiteful."

"How's that?" Loki refilled his glass. The liquor must not have been as strong as he wanted it to be because he didn't even sound tipsy yet.

"I don't want to get hurt and be weak. Because if I am, then it feels like I'm the same helpless girl Outlier made me."

"That's not spite; that's survival. And you can't be strong if you can't allow yourself to be weak."

"I didn't expect that kind of depth out of you. I mean no offense by that, but that's not really the front you put up."

"It's not from me. It's from my brother. At least, that seemed to be how he acted towards me before I died and came back and then he left."

"I've never viewed vulnerability as survival before."

"True. In my experience however, being stoic when your survival isn't dependent on it has never quite worked out for me."

"That doesn't make it any easier."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed as he took a sip and leaned back into the couch.

Slowly, I began to ease out of the corner, reassuring myself that I was fine, that I hadn't shown him too much. I tried to listen to the voice in my head who'd told me from the beginning to let down my walls.

"I hope you know you've officially ruined your reputation, as far as I'm concerned," I told him with a smirk.

"Damn."

"I hope it was fun while it lasted."

"What makes you think the intimidation has gone away?"

He looked me dead in the eye, and his gaze flickered down to my lips for two seconds too long to be innocent before meeting my eyes again. A tingle traveled down my spine, and I tried to block it out, but I didn't want to.. He continued to stare me down, trying to establish himself, but as much as I wanted to melt in the moment, I wouldn't let myself back down, either. It was a contest of piercing gazes and wills, and fuck, I was losing. The tension in my chest rose ever higher as he leaned imperceptibly closer to me.

"Well that was intense," I said, too loudly, and I leapt up from the couch out to the balcony.

I couldn't get away fast enough. It wasn't as though I disliked the feeling; it was just so different from anything I'd ever felt before. I'd slept with a few men before, but none of them had ever had the effect Loki had put on me, and he even had his clothes on. As I stared down at the city, I kept seeing him. Clear in my mind was our encounter from just a few minutes ago-his eyes on mine and my lips and the way he seemed so unbelievably comfortable with it all. But I saw other bits, too, like the way the sun rays hit his face in the market last week, our stolen glimpses at one another, how relieved I always was now when I'd see him after our week-long hiatuses. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and heard him walk over to me.

He stood close to me, and set one of his hands on the railing only half-an-inch away from my own hand. I didn't let myself look at him or let him see the way my heart was racing and I hoped he didn't see how I kept glancing to see if his hand had gotten any closer to mine.

_It's okay_, I thought. _You're allowed to be vulnerable_.

I didn't know I could relax like that, especially not next to him. But I did.

And when he leaned against me, even though my breathing hitched, I stopped fighting the feeling.

Chapter Fourteen

Although I spent a full week-and-a-half on Earth, I didn't feel so lonely, partly because my thoughts were always occupied by Loki. I couldn't help but wonder what sarcastic remarks he'd make at some of the information I was able to gather and put into the S.H.I.E.L.D. database from my slice of vibranium. But by the time I was back on Asgard, I knew just thinking about him was incredibly different from actually being with him again. It was more comfortable, even if I was more aware of him than before.

This time, we spent a lot of time in a grand hall that was filled with gigantic columns and statues of long-dead Asgardians. At the end of one hall was a balcony, this one facing the mountains and foothills behind the castle rather than the city and ocean. I leaned against one of the granite statues as I watched Loki show off some of his magic in front of the balcony. He moved intricately in a dance of sorts, flashes of green light washing over him or his palms as he shapeshifted or summoned something to his hand.

His appearance rippled again as he turned into Avenger after Avenger, mocking their walks and speech. He tended to favor Captain America, it seemed. The only person he didn't mimic was Nat, much to my relief. As much as I wanted to see her again, I couldn't bear seeing a fake version of her.

"Alright, alright," I laughed, "stop showing off. You're making me look bad. You can make fun of people and summon things from nowhere, but I can't even make a simple fireball without hurting myself. Not fair."

"I wouldn't be a very good god of mischief if I wasn't able to make fun of others without hurting myself."

"Yeah. There is one thing that's bothering me, though. I haven't seen any Asgardians use magic like you do. Is the magic from Jotunns, and I didn't get it, or what?"

"My mother was raised by witches, and she taught me what she knew so I could have a way to not be hidden in the shadows of my brother and father."

"She seems like she was a wonderful woman. I'm sorry she's… I'm sorry for your loss."

He looked down for a moment. "I am the only one who has to apologize."

"What do you mean?"

"You remember when I told you the Dark Elves laid siege to the castle?"

I nodded.

"I wasn't lying about her being murdered by the Dark Elves, but her death was not entirely an incident. One of the Elves freed the other prisoners, but not me, and I told him where to go. I didn't know my mother was protecting Jane Foster, my brother's girlfriend, so my mother was put in danger. She was killed."

"You couldn't have known he would kill her."

"I know."

"It wasn't your fault," I insisted.

Loki said nothing; he merely looked out at the mountains. The sun was beginning to set over them, the mountain caps sending enormous shadows over the foothills.

He abruptly turned around, tearing his gaze from the view, and began walking toward me. "Come. Let's go to dinner."

After we ate, we roamed the halls for a long time. Even though this was my fifth time at the palace, I was only just beginning to figure out its layout. We approached a more familiar area of the castle, near the room I always stayed in.

As we walked down the hallway to my room, I decided to pipe up. "My feet are getting kind of tired, and my room is right up here…."

Loki followed me into my room, and I carefully shut the door behind me, becoming more and more self-conscious by the second. I sat down on the couch in the middle of the room, and Loki sank onto the cushion next to me.

For the longest time, we just sat there, talking about the little things, the more trivial matters of our lives-what happened during the week-and-a-half I was away. And finally, I decided to tell him about my job. I told him how Outlier was still up and kicking, the work I did, and the people I worried about while I was on the job. I felt my chest clench as I told him about Atun. During the past week, I'd finally received word from Malon about Atun, and the news had hit me hard.

"Apparently," I explained, "all the Outlier agents are regularly brainwashed-their minds and memories are tampered with, and they make them better at their jobs. They wipe away the hard calls, or anything that makes them question Outlier. Well, the agent Atun was impersonating was up for the memory tampering. He went under, and when he woke up, he didn't know whom he was impersonating or why. He remembered nothing, and panicked. I guess he turned back into a Skrull because Outlier found out what he was. By the time I sent in Malon, Atun was already dead."

I swallowed hard, and I just wanted to collapse. But I held myself up, my elbows propped up on my knees, and my jaw resting on my hands. I didn't look at Loki, but I could feel him staring at me, and my cheeks began to burn.

"If another agent on my assignment is compromised, I don't know what will happen. I feel like I should be the one on the inside, risking it all, but my supervisors won't let me anywhere near an Outlier facility," I rubbed my temples as if it would push away the worry and guilt, but of course, it did absolutely nothing to help.

"Sometimes people will get hurt or die on your watch, but if you don't push through, then everything you've done, all the information you've gathered… it will be for nothing," Loki told me, and I met his eyes for the first time since I told him that Outlier wasn't gone like I'd thought it was only a few months ago.

"Anyone else could do what I do. I could be there, making more of a difference. Nobody needs me here."

"I want you here."

They were just four small, simple words, but they sent a chill through me. There was a weight behind his words, and they didn't come lightly. But I laughed it off instead.

"You do understand that I'm sitting next to you, right? I don't know how much more 'here' I can get."

"You are here, but for how long? Even if you keep doing what you do, how long will you truly be here? Your mind is elsewhere. You're always living in the past, in guilt and shame, or in the future by worrying about everyone but yourself. You'll only find yourself here. Now."

"Why do I feel like you mean with _you_, in the present?"

"Because that's what I mean."

It was then that I realized how close he was. He could have sat anywhere on the couch, but he'd chosen to sit less than a foot away from me. I could see every detail on his face, and he could see every one on mine. It was funny how aware I was of my breathing and that I could care so much about something so unimportant.

_In and out_, I told myself. _Breathe. It's okay to be vulnerable_.

"That's pretty up front of you," I asserted.

"And?"

I rocked my head from side to side in an _I don't know_ motion. "Bold move. Just bold enough to make me a little brave, too."

I glanced down at his mouth, and when I looked back at him, we both leaned in, and this time, I didn't run away. As soon as we kissed, I felt sparks I hadn't in a long time. My skin felt truly alive for the first time, my nerves dancing and urging to get closer to him. As we kissed, his hands began to travel, one sliding into my hair and the other holding my waist. They were colder than I expected but I didn't care. I just gently cupped his jaw, leaving my left hand to wander as Loki bit at my bottom lip.

He began laying kisses down my neck, but I felt nothing. I wanted to shout at my body for not being normal, for not being able to feel anything there, but of course, there was nothing I could do. Thankfully, he seemed to notice my lack of response, and he made his way back up. When he deftly sucked at the spot just behind my ear, my breathing hitched and my back arched in pleasure. After that, he only grew more confident, and he nibbled on my earlobe, making me audibly gasp as the feeling went straight to my core, dampening my underwear. He moved back to kiss me deeply, and after only moments, I was breathless. My forehead lightly rested on his own as I caught my breath, and I swear I could've stayed there forever.

But I pulled away to look at him again, and the glimmer in his eyes was ravenous. I smirked, and we fell back into one another. He moved me so I was kneeling and hovering just over his lap, a leg on either side of his own. I brushed across his lap, and I felt a slight bulge rub against me. My hand tangled itself in his long, soft hair as his hand slid down to grab my ass, sending little explosions of feeling along the way.

His other hand moved down my shoulder, sliding the strap of my Asgardian dress I'd thrown on earlier down my arm. At the movement, I stiffened and was ripped out of the moment. I opened my eyes, my chest threatening to beat out of my chest in panic.

_What am I doing? I can't do this. What will happen?_

Loki saw the sudden fear in my eyes, and his eyes grew somber.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and I hated how gentle his voice was. I felt like I was overreacting, completely out of my mind, but I just couldn't calm myself.

"I can't do this."

"Do you want to?"

I turned my head, ashamed. I wanted so badly to return to the moment, but something was still holding me back.

"Do you trust me?" Loki asked.

"I feel like I shouldn't."

"But you do."

"I want to."

"Why not trust me for one night?"

I bit my lip. _It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes_.

"Just tonight," I promised.

And then Loki was pulling me back into his arms, carefully, not wanting to push me too far. This time though, I led myself, falling more and more into him instead of falling apart. We acted hungrier, as though at any moment the world was going to fall apart.

I tugged at his tunic, and he pulled it over his head in one swift movement. It found its way to the floor on the other side of the room, but I couldn't care less about how hard it might be to find our clothes in the morning. I was too busy marveling at Loki's toned chest and arms-not over-the-top, but alluring nonetheless. As we kissed, one of my hands gravitated to his chest, while Loki again returned his attention to the straps of my dress. He pushed down the straps down my arms, his hands running over the burns I'd gotten the first time we met. I slowly stood up, and the loose dress fell to the floor.

I stood before Loki, and he became entranced with my body, the only remaining clothes being my bra and lacy underwear, and he rose to meet me. He easily lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the bed. God indeed. Without turning my head, I gestured with my hand, and the metal door handle locked itself.

Loki laid me down on my back, and he crawled onto the bed, hunger in his eyes. Pure want filled me, sending another wave of heat to my core.

"Fuck," I whispered, and I reached behind me to unclasp my bra. Any clothing felt like too much; I just wanted his skin on mine.

I pulled him down to kiss me, but he didn't need to be told to keep moving. He kissed his way down my chest, maintaining eye contact the entire time, yet I felt nothing until he reached the bottom of my ribcage. Suddenly, I felt everything at once, and he sucked lightly on my skin. My legs shook in pleasure and anticipation, but he skipped over the spot I wanted him at most. Infuriatingly, he moved past that, kissing and sucking the insides of my thighs instead. I squirmed, but he only smirked.

"Loki," I pleaded, and he finally relented.

He slipped my underwear down my hips, leaving my clean-shaven mound exposed. Loki held the wet, lacy underwear up, and grinned smugly, proud of his work, but he quickly cast them aside.

Loki grabbed my hips to pull me closer, lowered his head down to my folds, and began licking. I sighed in pleasure, and he licked circles around my clit. I felt myself beginning to come undone, but he kept going all the same. Then he licked around my entrance before slipping his tongue inside. His tongue darted in and out of me, and my hand became tangled in his hair, holding his head in place.

"Oh my god," I said as my thighs tightened around the side of his face.

I could feel my release building, but then he moved again, and I whined. He closed his lips around my clitoris while simultaneously sliding a finger inside me. He pumped the finger in and out, over and over again until he added another finger. Loki stretched his fingers, spreading me more, and I moaned loud enough to let anyone within the vicinity know what was happening in my room.

As he sucked my clit and pumped his fingers, the bottom of my stomach tightened, my release coming near.

"Loki. Oh, _fuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered as I finally felt release barrel down my spine. White hot pleasure swept over my entire body, and I rode the orgasm for as long as I could.

As I finished, Loki crawled over me to kiss me again, but all too quickly, he pulled back again. He kicked off his shoes, and I pushed his pants and underwear off him, revealing his long, hard dick.

It was easily seven inches long, and the hair around his length was trimmed neatly. A flash of green light spread over his hand, leaving behind a packaged condom.

"Now _that_ is the coolest thing I've seen you do with your powers," I laughed.

He shook his head but smiled as he ripped open the package and took out the condom. He slid it over his dick, and lined himself up with my slit. Loki slowly slid into me, letting me adjust to his size as he began gently thrusting in and out. I relaxed on the sheets, and he took that as a signal to start moving faster. He leaned down closer to me, pressing me into the mattress with the weight of his chest, but I didn't care.

Loki felt amazing, and took almost no time at all for him to hit that spot of pleasure that sent my head spinning. Again and again and again, he hit the spot, leaving me a moaning mess while I clutched onto him. As he pounded into me, I heard him pant too, and that drove me wild. With each thrust, he grinded against my clitoris, sending sparks of pleasure all over me.

Before long, I felt him pulsing inside me, but he was holding out for as long as he could. My walls began to pulse around him, and my own orgasm was so close I could almost taste it. My breathing hitched everytime he hit that spot. And then I felt him release, and I completely unraveled as I went over the edge too.

"Fuck, Loki, I'm coming."

Pleasure tingled from the base of my spine, and my toes curled, but he continued to thrust as the orgasm washed over me. As the orgasm faded, he sat up, still holding on to me. He held me in his arms as we caught our breath, and he kissed me deeply. We stayed like that for a few moments, but then I let go to give him a sly look. My eyes flickered from him back to the bed, and I climbed off of Loki, so I could move. Then I flipped him over so I was on top this time.

"Got another condom?" I asked, and he quickly summoned another and changed out the condom.

I hovered over Loki, my hands on his chest and my legs on either side of his hips as I lowered myself onto him. I took a sharp intake of air as he filled me once again, and I rode him for the first time. He went even deeper, hitting that spot almost every time. Loki breathed ruggedly beneath me, completely out of control of when he'd be able to come. I simply rode him harder, no longer able to keep myself from moaning.

"Fuck yes," I panted.

I could tell Loki was getting close again, but I needed a little more help, so I reached down to my clitoris and began rubbing circles around it, ever faster.

"Shit," we both moaned almost at the same time, and once more, I felt Loki pulse inside me, but I beat him to the chase. I lowered myself on him one last time, harder than I had yet, and I orgasmed again.

"Oh god," I whispered as I hit euphoria, and I rolled my hips a few more times not only to feel utterly intoxicated, but also to finish Loki off as well. He released, and after a minute or two, I rose off him and rolled over beside him, exhausted. With a wave of his hand, he'd cleaned himself off, and he laid next to me, an arm draped over my back.

He seemed as tired as I was, but he pulled back the sheets to cover me. Loki looked around the room at our clothes which had been strewn all over the place like he was about to get up, but I grabbed his arm gently.

"Please don't go," I whispered. "Just for one night."

He sighed deeply and said, "I'm here."

Loki crawled under the thin silk sheets next to me, and I curled up as I always did, with my arm cradling my head. But that night I slept beside him, my head leaning against his cool chest. He lay peacefully at my side, and for the first time in a year, I let out a breath of pure calm. I don't know for sure, but I think I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Chapter Fifteen

A loud rapping came at the door, and Loki and I both jolted up in bed.

"Prince Loki, you're needed at the council," a deep voice came from the other side of the door, and I rubbed my eyes as I realized how this looked.

If someone came to _my_ room in the morning to get Loki, then people already knew about us. So much for privacy.

Loki groaned. "One moment!" he shouted, and darted up, quickly gathering his clothes.

"I don't know how private you are about your personal life to everyone else, but I don't think you have much of a choice in this right now," I told him.

"I know," he grudgingly admitted as he tugged on his pants.

"How long will you be?"

"A few hours, at least, I'd say."

I looked outside at the sun, which was already decently high in the sky.

"You know I have to go back."

He hung his head but nodded nonetheless.

"Come back sooner this time." A plea, not an order.

"I'll try, but I can't make any promises. I might be able to come in four days, but it probably won't be until the evening."

"Four days," he agreed, and his appearance rippled to make him seem like he was wearing new clothes and his hair was brushed.

"See you then," I half-smiled, and his hand faltered on the door handle.

Loki strode back over to the bed to kiss me one more time before he left. I sank onto the bed as the door shut behind him. How cruel was it that I finally had something, but I couldn't even stay around long enough to fully enjoy this?

Just as I'd promised, I returned four days later, a little later in the evening than I'd hoped, but I had no apologies to give. A guard told me Loki was in his rooms, so that's where I went. As I entered the hallway leading to his rooms, instrumental music swept through me. The closer I got to his door, the louder the music was, and I got no response when I knocked on the door. After a couple minutes, I just let myself in, and I found Loki laying on one of his couches, his eyes closed while he listened. I set down my backpack by the door, and Loki didn't open his eyes until I walked past him to sit on one of a loveseat.

"Hi," I half-shouted, hoping he could hear me over the loud music.

Loki's eyes popped open, and he smirked. He jumped up and turned the music down to a reasonable volume but stayed standing instead of sitting back down.

"You couldn't hear me when I knocked, so I just let myself in," I explained. "Sorry for intruding."

"You're not intruding."

"Good. I wouldn't want the guards coming after me. I can barely even make eye contact with them as it is after one of them woke us up the last time I was here."

"I have asked that guard to keep that to himself, if it's any consolation."

"So he's the only one that knows?"

"You obviously must have not come across Sif or Brunnhilde."

A ball of dread knotted itself up in my stomach. "No. Why?"

"If the teasing they've given me is any hint, there is no chance they would let you off easily. They were both at the council, expecting me, when a guard approached to inform Brunnhilde that I'd never left your room the night before. And when I arrived to the councilroom, Brunnhilde made a grand show of grudgingly handing off a purse of coins to Sif."

"They actually made a bet on us? Wait, hold on. How much did they bet?"

He smiled slyly. "I didn't ask, but Sif bought a rather expensive set of armor last night, so it must've been no small amount."

Lok sat next to me and rested his arm behind me on the top of the loveseat.

"In all seriousness, you're welcome to visit more often," he told me.

"It's not like I don't want to. It's just… sometimes I feel like when I'm away, I'm not doing enough."

"You don't have to punish yourself."

"I know."

"You don't act like it."

I sighed. "Before I met you, I worked practically non-stop. The fact that I'm not fretting and pushing myself to go back says a lot, I think. I'm happy to be here."

Chapter Sixteen

A couple visits later, I showed up in the afternoon, as a surprise to Loki. I found him working in his study, which was only one of many of his rooms. I leaned against the frame of his open door, and knocked, and he jolted.

"You're so into your work that I scared you? And here I was thinking everyone hated paperwork as much as I do," I joked.

"More like I was so bored by the work that I almost fell asleep," he explained as he casually leaned back in his chair. "I didn't know you were coming this early. Usually you arrive after dark."

"Work's been slow," I said as I eyed his wall of bookcases behind his desk. "Any good reads?"

"Nothing in English. Everything is in Old Norse."

"Hey, I know seven languages! It just so happens that Old Norse isn't one of them." I sighed. The books were truly beautiful, each cover a work of art. Most were green, blue, brown, or red, and all of them were carefully engraved with gold or silver markings.

Nevertheless, I walked over to the bookcase to investigate the tomes. I'd always loved books, as they were one of the few enjoyable things Outlier allowed me to have. I didn't care that I couldn't read any of them; they were cool just to look at.

Suddenly, I felt Loki's weight pressing against my back as he reached over my head to retrieve an old, well-worn book.

"This one is my favorites," he whispered into my ear, and my heartbeat became much louder in my chest. He was… very close.

"Oh?" my voice was sort of breathless, and not at all as confident as I wanted it to be.

"I find it to be very entertaining, but of course, you wouldn't be able to read it."  
"Right."

"I can think of something else that's even more entertaining, however. Something more… _stimulating_."

Loki pushed my hair off my neck and began sucking just behind my ear-the place he was always able to make me lose myself in. My knees grew shaky, and I gripped onto the edge of a shelf to hold myself steady.

I reached behind me to hold his head where it was, but after a moment, I turned around to face him. He slowly put the book back above me and rested his hand on the shelf above my head.

Neither of us move; we just stared at each other, and as I watched his tongue slide between his teeth, I realized how easily I was giving in, how easily he could make me go weak at the knees. Again, I was stopped cold by Loki, my wide eyes doing nothing to hide it. I wasn't the only one who knew how obvious my fear was.

"I thought you trusted me," Loki said, crestfallen.

"You said just for one night."

"What about all the nights since then?"

My eyes flitted down to the floor before meeting his again. "You're not the one I need to trust right now."

"You're scared of yourself? What changed between the first few times we slept together and this?"

"I wasn't so attached then," I admitted, but I refused to look him in the eye.

"Neither was I, yet here I am."

He didn't say it, but he didn't have to for me to understand. _You're not alone._

"So you're just as fucked as me?"

"Perhaps," he cocked his head. "There you go again, off somewhere in the future."

I shook my head, half in trying to free my mind of its anxious thoughts, and half in argument. "No. I'm here."

Our little promise to each other.

Almost as if my subconscious was trying to prove something to him, my body spurred me on. My fingers became intertwined in his hair, and I pulled him the few inches down to my height. When we kissed, it wasn't like anything else before; this was reckless, urgent, full of _need_.

I kissed harder, and we stumbled back a few steps, until he spun the two of us around so that he was the one leading me. We wandered backwards, and suddenly, I was slammed against a wall. He looked frightened for a split second that his strength had gotten the best of him, but being pushed against a wall like that only drove me more. I reached for the waistband of his pants and began clumsily unbuckling his belt. Loki picked me up so that for once, I was as tall as him. I finished shoving down his pants, and they fell to his ankles as I hurriedly forced down my own jeans.

He quickly summoned a condom, wanting to waste no time in pushing into me, and my head hit the wall as I sighed deeply. With each thrust, I was pushed against the wall, and his power was intoxicating. I probably wouldn't be able to sit for a few days, but he hit that spot almost perfectly with every thrust, and I couldn't handle it. The minutes passed like seconds, and when my walls clenched around him as he kissed across my collarbone and up my neck, I knew I wouldn't last even a minute.

"Oh, oh, oh," I moaned in his ear, and Loki held me firmly in place, one hand holding me up, the other holding my chin. We held eye contact, and the intimacy was all I needed to push me over the edge. My core clenched again as my fluids were released, and he moaned as he came too.

We stayed still for a moment, our foreheads leaning against one another as we panted. He set me down on the floor, and we both tried to make ourselves appear presentable again. He sat on the edge of his desk.

"Do you mind if I use your shower?" I asked. "You're welcome to join me."

He nodded, "I'll be in in a minute."

I stripped down and started the water, but after several minutes had passed and he still wasn't there, I walked out to his study, not bothering to wrap a towel around myself.

"What's taking so long?" I asked him.

He was looking at something to his right, and when he looked up at me, he nearly choked. I glanced to where he'd been staring and found Brunnhilde standing there. I stumbled a couple steps backwards and grabbed onto the door frame for support.

Fuck.

"Eira-oh!" she said as she realized I was naked, and she stared at the wall behind Loki, refusing to look at me. "I didn't know you were here."

"Funny, I'm thinking the exact same thing right now," I said nervously, glaring at Loki. "I'm just… I'm going to go now."

I hurried out of his study and muttered to myself as I rushed back to his bathroom. "Great job. Absolutely fantastic."

When I stepped out of the shower, an elaborate gown hung from the door, waiting for me. It was a floor-length, strapless, emerald green dress with a brilliant golden plate from just under the bust down to the waist. Gold and green-Loki's favorite colors. I rolled my eyes, but I took the dress off the hanger and slipped into it.

Once I was dressed, I braided as much of my short hair as I could and crept into the main room, hoping Brunnhilde had left, but I heard her voice coming from his study. I almost turned right back around, but then I saw his coffee table was covered in dozens of books. I hurried over and began leafing through the stacks and found books in English, Spanish, French, Italian, Polish, Russian, and German. After a few minutes of contemplating between three books, I chose one and was about to sneak off out on the balcony to read, but Brunnhilde emerged from Loki's study.

"How've you been? I haven't seen you since Loki was late to the council meeting a couple weeks ago. _Tangled up_ in other matters?" the corners of her lips tilted up into a sly smile.

"Hey, I've already reached my embarrassment quota for the day. I don't need anything to add to that."

"There is no quota you can reach wherever I am considered. Besides, I've got a bone to pick with you. As happy as I am for you, if you'd just waited one more visit to bone him, I would've been rich."

"One: you are the queen of one of the wealthiest realms in the universe, and you live in a golden castle. How much richer are you going to get?"

"Quite rich, thank you very much."

"-Two: why are you happy for me? We're not necessarily together."

"That's hilarious. For the time you both take out of your schedules to spend time with one another… well, there's something there. Loki cares about you. He doesn't care about a lot of people. You two are obviously more than just fuck buddies."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "We are not fuck buddies."

"Right. You're more than that."

"Do we really need to discuss this right now?"

"No, I just like to fuck with people. But I'm still happy for you. You seem good with him."

"Don't get your hopes up, Brunnhilde. He's basically a god, and I'm more or less human. That puts a serious time limit on _whatever_ this may be."

"Just because something is hard doesn't mean you should give it up," she said, turning to leave.

"I didn't say I would."

"Good," Brunnhilde nodded as she crossed the room to the door. "A pleasure as always, Eira."

"It always is with you," I rolled my eyes.

I went out to the balcony, but I couldn't focus on my book. Between the mental image of Brunnhilde seeing me naked playing over and over in my head and Brunnhilde's comments of my non-relationship with Loki, I had barely read a page before Loki found me out there.

"You couldn't have told me you had company?" I asked him as he stood before me, my voice sharp.

"You didn't hear us talking?" he returned, and I folded my arms

"That's not the point."

He gave me a pointed look. "She showed up with important matters to discuss, and I thought you would just shower alone."

"Obviously we were not on the same page."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Are you expecting an apology?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

He sighed and sat down next to me on the outdoor couch I was on. "I'm sorry."

"That was a pretty lacking apology. You're lucky you're pretty."

He scoffed. "Just 'pretty?' Not gorgeous? Stunning? Beautiful? Radiant? Ravishing?"

I looked over him and tilted my head back and forth for show. "Nope. Just pretty."

Loki huffed and moved so he was lying down, and he rested his head on my lap. "I take back my apology."

"Don't strain yourself," I said as I gently ran my fingers through his hair, and his eyes began to glaze over, before flitting shut. But I wasn't letting him fall asleep on me just yet. "Why do you work a desk job? I mean, you're the god of _mischief_, yet your job seems so… boring."

He responded, eyes still closed. "I don't enjoy my job, but it's the persona I have to fit now. Thor expects better from me, and as much as I don't care for people's opinions of me, I didn't always. He is one of the few people that I don't necessarily aim to please, but I work to be better for. As for how I survive the monotony of it all, well, my role is to call out the diplomats or people who aren't doing their job. I get by with snide comments and sarcastic notes, mostly just passive-aggressive. Sometimes I ignore the passive part and am just aggressive. That makes my life much more entertaining. I don't mind the council meetings, though, because then my spiteful remarks hit harder, and Brunnhilde likes it when I enrage the diplomats. They're not used to having their dominance threatened."

I laughed. "Well, I'm sure Thor wouldn't expect you to sit behind a desk. He knows who you are. Don't force yourself into a box."

"And you enjoy your job so much? We both know you're dying to get out of the motel rooms. Stake-outs and stalking are more up your alley."

"It's not stalking; it's surveillance," I tried to defend myself.

"Surveillance is just a fancier term for stalking."

"Shut up," I teased.

Surprisingly, he did, and before I knew it, he was asleep. I glanced down at Loki, and I again was transferred to another world. Not the story I was failing at reading, but my own reality, one I couldn't believe I actually had. The late-afternoon sun rays shone on his hair, creating a halo of sorts. _A little devil's halo_, I laughed to myself.

But beyond joking, he truly did look lovely, peaceful even. I found myself mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. How was he hypnotizing me when he wasn't even awake?

It didn't matter. All I knew was that I was hooked, and I wasn't going to give this up. I couldn't give this up; he was all I had. I wasn't scared anymore of what would happen if I put too much trust in him or too little trust in myself. The only thing I was scared of was losing these little moments with him, of losing _him_.

Chapter Seventeen

The stolen afternoons and evenings I had with Loki went on like that for months. Always soaking up as much time we could with one another because we were each other's only escape-each other's lifeline. And every three or four days, I'd come back to Asgard for a night, but in the morning it was back to Earth to work. But the longer things went on, the easier things became. I still had nightmares, but Loki was almost always there to calm me down from them. When Malon went missing, the news hit me hard, but it didn't send me reeling as I had with Atun's disappearance. I was still enraged, though I tried to be more patient with Maria Hill and Director Fury when they brought forward a new Skrull instead of sending me in to replace Malon. The days of tracking down and capturing Outlier agents-the only thing my supervisors thought I was capable of doing-didn't drag on as long anymore. Maybe I was really healing. Maybe not. All I knew was when I was with Loki, time took a little longer to catch up. The time we had with one another stopped being stolen moments; they became everything to me. Life was steady and comfortable. That was an odd feeling-being comfortable in my surroundings. But how could something that came so naturally be foreign to me?

In yet another motel room, I received an encrypted file from our Skrull on the inside, Sarin. In the file were only two pieces of information: where an Outlier agent by the name of Andrea Kathan would be this evening and a set of codes. When I saw her name, I froze. Andrea wasn't just some lower agent with halfway-decent intel; she was one of the most important people in the whole agency. She'd studied my powers, helped train me with them, and then went on to teach the trainees how to use their powers, too. She was a special breed of nightmare. And it was now my job to take her in. Fantastic.

But then I saw what the set of codes were for, and the alarm bells ringing in my ears faded. The codes had been written to destroy Outlier from the inside-Sarin just had to use the codes, and the trackers that were in all of the agents necks would fritz out, instantly knocking out any agent for a nice, long nap. This was it. This was my ticket out. I relayed the information to Director Fury and Maria Hill, and we decided that in one week during one of our communication times, we would tell her to use the codes. But my job wasn't over yet. I still had someone to take down.

I only had a few hours to arrive where I knew Andrea Kathan would be and to formulate a plan to capture her. In the wintry evening, the sun had already set a few hours before I arrived. Given the darkness of the night, my usual black suit would work perfectly to make me blend in well with my surroundings.

Andrea, of all people, had gone to a gala, likely as a representative for Outlier, though Outlier went by a different name to the public. To the outside world, Outlier was a relatively small, technology-producing company. Completely innocent.

I'd been able snatch an image of her license plate from the parking garage security cameras as Kathan had arrived-alone. I waited a few cars away from her own in the garage for a few hours, nervously waiting for her to finish her evening. I'd already cut a few select wires in her car to make it quite difficult for her to leave in case things went south on my part.

People leaving the gala made their ways in and out of the garage, but I refused to let myself get distracted. Being so bored and nervous at the same time was such a strange feeling, one that made me want to bang my head against the steering wheel. Finally, I spotted her. Her graying hair shone in the dim lights of the garage as she confidently strode over to her car, clutching a small purse. It was time to go.

When her back was turned, I got out of my SUV and silently shut the door behind me, and I snuck up behind her while she fumbled in her purse for her keys. I lifted my arm up to hit her square on head with a clenched fist, but she must've caught a glimpse of me in the reflection of her window because she spun on me quickly, and threw a small metal circle at me. As soon as it landed on my raised wrist, the metal dug and implanted a part of itself underneath my skin. I waved my hand to throw the metal off, but it didn't work. The connection between me and my powers felt empty. It was more than empty; it was nonexistent. My gut sank as I realized the metal disk had cut off the ability to use my powers.

Shit.

I swung at her, but her arms were raised to block her face. In her hand was another piece of metal, and she pressed it. Almost immediately, skull-splitting pain ruptured throughout my whole body. It was the same drug that'd been used on me every time I defied Outlier or was used against Faraji. I crumpled to the floor, and she just laughed over me.

No. No, no, no, no. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be winning.

"Twenty-six. What a pleasure it is to see you after all these years. I've missed these little interactions of ours," Andrea crooned.

I was stuck on the ground, spasming and gasping desperately for air.

"Fu-fuck... you," I managed to spit out.

She kicked my head-hard, and my head seemed to explode in even more pain. "I knew you were coming, dear. We found your third Skrull this morning just after she sent us that message about me. Sarin, was it? Pity, she didn't last long against us. Not as quickly as you always did. As angry as you were at us, you were quite weak-willed when it came to torture."

I'd _tried_ to fight it, I _did_. I wasn't weak, I wasn't. But I was. I always had been. Weak and vulnerable and helpless-a broken little girl. I guess I still was, even now.

_No. I will not be weak again._

I concentrated as she continued rambling, and I swung my leg at her feet, quickly toppling her over. This time was different. I was able to focus the pain into one spot, to force it deep down where it couldn't affect me so much. I was stronger than before. While she was still down, I wrenched one of her stilettos off her feet and rammed the heel into the arch of her foot as hard as I could.

She screamed, and I kept ramming the thin, firm heel anywhere I could. The arch of her foot again, her ankle, then her hand with the control. She clawed and kicked at me, but I could barely feel it. I was used to that kind of pain, even though I struggled to move due to the drug. I hunched my body over the arm holding the control, and I hacked away at her clenched fist with the heel, over and over. I heard a finger crack, faint in comparison to the roars in mind, and I snatched the control away from her. I pressed a few of the buttons, and one of them seemed to do the trick. The fireworks going off in my body calmed down to a few sparks here and there, and I slowly picked myself off the floor.

"We will always get you. We know you. We know how you work, where you work. We know everything. We know you disappear every few days. We will destroy you," she croaked out.

"Shut up," I grumbled, and slammed my heel down onto one of her hands. She screamed again, and I kicked her in the jaw. Andrea went out cold.

I trembled, and not out of physical weakness as I hauled her off the floor and dragged her to the back of my SUV. Once I'd made sure she was secured, I quickly went over to where I'd beaten her on the ground, and I placed a ball on the ground. It was specially designed by S.H.I.E.L.D. to clean up blood or any other bodily fluids you wouldn't want someone to find. And I drove off to the drop point, far away from where anyone like her could hurt me.

Chapter Eighteen

I staggered into the medical bay of Asgard's castle, clutching my head as it mercilessly throbbed. After the encounter with Andrea, I felt hollow, stripped of all sense of comfort and ease. I was wild dog, ready to go off on anyone at any moment. But I kept my tone even as a healer took me away to a room to help me, and she instructed a nearby guard to tell Loki where I was.

The healer patiently examined me, and after a few minutes she told me I had a mild concussion from when Andrea Kathan had kicked my head. I nodded numbly, trying to let the healer tend to the several scratches Andrea had given me. But every time the healer touched me, no matter how lightly, I flinched away from her. I couldn't help it. I just felt like I was back in one of the rooms in the medical bay of Outlier's main compound where a crowd of doctors would fawn over me at once. It reminded me of the pokes and prods and how many times they'd asked me to rate my pain on a scale from one to ten. All I'd wanted to do was shrink away to hide from them and everything and everyone else.

And I couldn't just ignore what Andrea had told me. Outlier had found Sarin, tortured her, and likely killed her. Kathan hadn't mentioned the codes, but they knew I was on to them, and even scarier, they knew my schedule. I was powerless again. I wasn't supposed to be powerless; I was supposed to be strong and in control of myself, but I was weak.

I still couldn't use my powers because I couldn't get the stupid disk out of my skin. I'd pressed every single button on the control panel I'd stolen from Andrea, but nothing could get it off. Evidently, Andrea had planned to capture me, not the other way around.

The healer left the room and returned with a tray of instruments to remove the disk, and I quickly noticed a taser-like tool.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"That's only for extreme circumstances. I should be able to carefully cut around the disk, but in case it's more heavily attached than I think it is, I will have to use that tool to send an electrical impulse to turn it off. However, I don't want to use it if I don't have to because it would cause pain all over your body, and not just where I'm cutting," the healer explained.

_Just use the fucking taser thing. I can take pain_, I thought to myself, but suddenly, the door to the healer's room swung open.

Loki burst into the room, stress painted all over his face.

"You weren't supposed to arrive here until tomorrow, but a guard just came to my door saying you were here-injured. What happened?" he asked frantically.

The healer turned to him, distressed by his outburst. "Please calm down. If you'll just give me a moment-"

But Loki cut her off, and before I knew it, the two were in an argument about not stressing me out with his loud and worried tones. Fuck that. If the two of them were only going to stand there, shouting at one another, then I was going to take things into my own hands. I grabbed the taser off the tray, pressed it into my skin, and turned it on. Electrical impulses ran under my skin over my whole body, and the disk spritzed out.

"Eira!" both of them shouted at me.

I dropped the taser and shook my head as I regained my bearings. Both of them stared at me, mouths hanging open, so I stared right back at Loki in indignation as the healer before gently removed the now-loose disk. The healer rushed over to me with bandages, while Loki hurried over to my other side. I pointedly looked straight ahead, avoiding both of them even though I couldn't when they were so close to me.  
"You can't do things like that. You're going to hurt yourself," Loki told me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. 'Fine' people don't electrocute themselves."

"I'm _fine_," I insisted. "I just have a mild concussion and a few scratches."

"Actually, you're going to need stitches," the healer said as she examined my arm where disk had been.

Loki gave me a pointed look.

"I don't feel like talking about it, Loki," I sighed, and I rubbed my face tiredly with my free hand. "Please just drop it for now."

Once the healer had finished, I quickly thanked her, and she couldn't seem to get out of the room fast enough-not that I could blame her. I would've ran out with her had I known Loki wouldn't let me get away with that.

Loki reached out to touch me, but I subconsciously shifted away from him. Gone was the comfort of seeing or being with him, replaced by the medley of thoughts terrorizing my mind. Loki looked stricken, and I immediately softened.

"I went after Andrea Kathan today," I quickly said in an attempt to explain myself.

His eyes widened in recognition, and I continued on.

"She said they knew about Sarin, and that the agents there tortured her. She might be dead for all I know. Andrea knew I'd come after her, and she was prepared. She caught me off guard, and I got hurt. She threw that disk on me, and it gave me the same drug I was always given when Outlier tortured me. Andrea-she kept talking over me like I was helpless and weak. She told me Outlier knew all about what I'm trying to do. They know where I'm staying; they know everything. I beat her, but it's just not enough. I can't believe I thought I could actually do this," I said, and I buried my face in my hands. "I can't… I can't do this. I'm not as strong as I thought I was."

The only thing I didn't tell him about was the codes. Now that we had no one on the inside, no one could use them. I didn't want to have to send in another Skrull.

"Listen to me," Loki said. "You aren't weak. You fought the drug. You _won_."

"No, I didn't! I may have won that fight, but I still have to keep fighting! And with all that Outlier knows, I'm actually losing, so it doesn't matter."

"Look at me."

I didn't. I just kept looking straight ahead, as if that meant I didn't have to deal with this right now.

"Look at me," he repeated, and I reluctantly glanced over at me. "You're here now. _I'm_ here. As long as you're here, they haven't won."

Loki looked at me like his whole world was falling apart, but he didn't look away. It was a look of care, of worry, and… something else. Something I couldn't bring myself to deal with.

"No. Don't look at me like that. Please just _don't_. I can't handle this," I shook my head over and over again.

"Like what?"  
"Like you love me."

"Eira, I-"  
"No! You can't love me. You're not allowed to love me. If you do, then Outlier's already won because then I'll love you back, and that makes me weak. I can't be weaker than I already am. I have to be strong, I have to be _better_-"

"I never said I love you."

"You didn't have to."

"So I'm not allowed to lie about my feelings, but I'm not allowed to tell you about them either? I will tell you that I love you when I want to. It's my right," Loki argued, his voice slowly raising. "I will say it when I want to; even if it's not convenient."

I glared at him. "Then just say it."

He ignored me. "Do you love me?"

"It doesn't matter what I feel if it puts me in danger."

"This is not putting you in danger. It's a feeling, not a weapon!"

"_Everything_ is a weapon to Outlier. I was their weapon first, but now they will use whatever they have in their arsenal against me. What if they capture me? They'll use this against me! They'll use _you_ against me! I can't handle that," I shouted, and my voice broke, the tears I hadn't realized I was holding back threatened to spill. "You are the only thing I have, no, you are _all_ I have! So when I say I can't handle that, I can't handle that because it means losing you, and that's the one thing I cannot deal with."

"If you loved me, you wouldn't be scared of this."

I scoffed and stood up. "Fuck you. _Fuck you_. I am trying to protect myself! Do not use my fear as a means to gain leverage!"

"I'm sorry."

His voice was calm and quiet, so quiet I barely heard him, but the brokenness in those little words was enough to stop me from walking out.

Loki continued, "I love you. I'm not saying that to scare you, or to drive you away, I am saying that because it is true. Believe me, if I thought saying that would truly scare you off, I would never have said it. You said I am all you have. Well, you are all I have left. I don't say that lightly. I love you, and I _will not_ let Outlier take you or control you."

I swear I stopped breathing, and I only remembered to when my chest began to ache. "How can you stop it? They're already controlling me with this fear."

"As long as you have something to hold onto, Outlier cannot control you. You may not have much, but you have me. I'm still here. I will always be here."

I stared at Loki, over every beautiful and frustrating inch of him, and I walked toward him. I wrapped my arms around him, and he pulled me close.

"I don't want to lose you."

"Then don't give in to them. Not now, not ever. They are millions of miles away; they don't have you. You are _safe_. As long as I'm by your side, you're safe."

We stood there for a long time, never loosening our embrace, the security of being in his arms calming me.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "When it comes to Outlier… I tell myself that I'm winning, that I'm doing something, but as long as I'm worried about them screwing up my life, they have control over me. They did even when I thought they were destroyed. And I'm trying to let go of that. I can't let them follow me everywhere." I leaned back and met his eyes, "I… I love you too. I think I probably have thought so for a while, but now I know I do."

Loki kissed me slowly, and I was at home again. Not because I was in Asgard, but because I was with him, and I was making sure I wouldn't ever be taken advantage of again. Loki was right. I was safe. I was perfectly me, no longer tethered by the stain Outlier had left on my life.

Chapter Nineteen

I hid out on Asgard for a week, not wanting to go back to Earth yet. Because for all the promises Loki had made to me about keeping me safe, he couldn't do that if I wasn't on Asgard. And he couldn't come to Earth without interfering with my work, so I just stayed.

Finally, I came back. The world was quiet, normal even. Still chaotic, as always, but Outlier was nowhere to be seen.

I began using a new alias. I got another SUV of a different style and with new plates. I checked into a new motel hours away from the last one. Safety was only an illusion, but it was a damn good one. In the motel, I finally answered the calls which kept being sent to me by Director Fury.

"Eira, when I call you, you _pick up_," Fury demanded as soon as he answered the call. Next to him was Agent Hill, and she looked even less happy to see me than Fury and I were to see each other.

"You were off-world for a week, agent. This is unacceptable behavior for S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives," Maria reprimanded me. "You have a job to do, and an incredibly important one at that. You can't just run off to Asgard whenever you want."

"When I left Kathan at the drop point, I told you what she'd told me. Outlier knows too much about me. I found it to be in my best interest to lie low for a bit," I responded with as much respect as I could force into my voice.

"Your best interests lie within S.H.I.E.L.D. We could have sent you to a safe house from which you could have continued working," Hill said.

"All due respect, but I have always completed my assignments since I began working for S.H.I.E.L.D. My loyalties lie within it, and the moment my personal life takes import over my work will be the moment that I step away. However, that moment has not yet come to pass. We both know I am an asset to you, even though the two of you are determined to make my work feel as inconsequential as possible."

"Well, there's a new opportunity for your work to take a new direction, one you've been wanting for months. We're sending you into Outlier, impersonating Andrea Kathan. You'll pretend Andrea escaped from our custody, and you're eager to go back to work," Nick Fury instructed, and I stilled. "You'll use the codes, and take them down on our command."

The overwhelming bitterness of bile crept up the back of my throat. I was going to walk right into Outlier, and then what? I'd either be successful or I'd be found out and tortured and killed like the rest who'd infiltrated them. I could finally beat them, or I could lose everything I had.

_Outlier comes first. It always has. You knew that when you got into this with Loki_, a wretched voice whispered to me from the back of my mind.

"Are you okay, Eira? You look ill," Maria noticed aloud.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I can… I can do this."

"Good. Go to the drop point tomorrow morning, and we'll fly you out to the drop point to begin your final training."

"Understood."

The call ended, and I fell to my knees, the air knocked from my lungs.

That night, I trudged through the halls of Asgard's palace with all my luggage to Loki. I'd promised myself one last night to say goodbye. I'd have one more night without worries of Outlier, a night just for the two of us.

Loki was still awake in his room, reading by lamplight when I came in. But for the life of me, I couldn't keep a straight face. He was so peaceful, and when he looked up to see me, a glimmer danced through his eyes. I couldn't help but crumble.

I kicked off my shoes, and crawled into bed next to him, completely weak.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just… I'm just glad to be here. Tired, you know?" I told him.

"You're lying. Try again-the truth this time."

"Says the god of mischief," I rolled my eyes, but Loki only looked at me expectantly. "Another night," I promised. I didn't want to tell him then. "For now, all that matters is that I'm here, okay?"

"Okay," he said, and set down his book on his nightstand.

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight.

"Can I just stay here forever?" I half-joked, my voice muffled by his shirt..

"Forever is a little long. Until morning is more reasonable."

"I'm not used to you being the voice of reason in this relationship."

"I'd say you are more often the voice of worry."

"You love me anyway, though. So I win, right?"

"Yes. You win."

What a beautiful lie.

The next morning, Loki kissed me good morning while I was still laying in bed just before he set out for another council meeting, but I didn't let him leave just yet. I pulled him back down to me, and I kissed him deeply, like it was the last time I ever would. At last, he broke the kiss, but his forehead still rested on my own, just taking me in for what he didn't know would be the last time.

I tried to tell him then, but before I could form the words, he was gone, leaving me alone in a mess on his bed.

Chapter Twenty

That morning, the Bifrost left me at a drop point, and a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent whose name I didn't care to learn drove me to a nearby private airfield. A small plane was waiting for me on the airstrip, and who I could only assume was the pilot was examining the outside of the plane. I mindlessly filed inside, backpack and suitcase in tow from the night before. After situating my luggage, I sat in the seat closest to the door and managed to fall asleep.

I woke up to the noise of several cars driving up. I blearily looked outside my window, and I immediately woke up as I watched several black SUVs surround the plane. A few of the SUVs' doors opened, and several black-suited agents climbed out, tranq rifles in hand. I'd already suspected who these people were as they drove up, but once I saw the rifles, I was positive. When I was still in captivity and tried to escape from Outlier's clutches, they used those rifles every time.

Shit.

They knew where I was, and they wouldn't be shooting to kill, which was somehow even worse.

Power surged through my body, and I moved my hands out from me, sending the SUVs catapulting backwards. They flipped over and over until they rolled to a stop, each one a hundred yards away from the plane. The vehicles' exteriors were twisted and hopelessly dented.

The few agents who had gotten out before I destroyed their SUVs all pointed toward the plane and encircled it. I waved my hand, ripping the rifles from their hands. Then I brought my hands together, and all the tranqs slammed together, wrapping themselves around each other to the point where none of the weapons even resembled what they'd been. I dropped the ball of gun fragments in front of the guards, and all they could do was stare.

I thought I was nearly safe and I only had to take care of the remaining agents, but that was before I saw the pilot. One of the agents walked around the back of the plane, dragging the pilot in a chokehold. The pilot struggled against his attacker, hitting him blindly, but to no avail.

"If you want him, come get him!" the agent shouted at me.

I couldn't just let the pilot die. He was innocent in all of this, and even if I hadn't cared about him getting hurt, he was my one way out of here. Every SUV was totaled, and I couldn't fly by myself.

I took a breath to brace myself, and I walked through the open door. I held my hands up in the air in surrender, but what the agents couldn't see was the solid buffer of air protecting me. Nothing could pass through; the gusts of winds would simply deflect it. But I had to work fast-controlling air drained from my own lungs and thinned the air I breathed.

"Let him go!" I shouted back to them, and the agents glanced at one another like they couldn't believe I was giving in so easily.

But they were smarter than I gave them credit for. The agent yelled, "A trade-off. You for him."

I headed toward them, and when I was within a few feet of them, the agent released the pilot. The pilot dropped to his knees, gasping for air, and he crawled away from them.

The agent gestured at me to come toward him, but I was done playing their games. I blew a blast of wind at them, and they flew back several feet. One of them landed on their head, and the crunch of bone told me they were dead.

I turned away from them, and I opened my shield of air to usher in the pilot. He picked himself up and staggered toward me. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw movement. I whirled behind me to see an agent point something small at me, and before I could close the shield, it hit my arm.

Drowsiness consumed me, and I just stared at the small dart sticking out of my arm. I clumsily moved to rip it out, but I swayed and crumpled to the ground.

Chapter Twenty-One

Clinical white lights bore down into my eyes, and squinted as I looked around me, trying to ease the aggressive pounding in my head.

I tried to sit up, but I couldn't even do that. I peered down at myself to see a thick belt strapped over my chest, connecting to a hard table underneath me. I saw I'd been changed into a navy blue jumpsuit, and my skin crawled at the thought of some stranger undressing me. But I pushed away my increasing level of unease and shifted around a little, the soreness of my hips and shoulders telling me I'd been here for a while. My wrists and ankles were chained by metal cuffs to the table too. As I failed to bend the metal to free myself, I knew that they were the ones Outlier used my whole life to deactivate my powers. That was where I was: Outlier.

My eyes darted all around the room, and I'd never felt more like a wild animal stuck in a trap. I wheezed in desperation as I strained to breathe, my lungs wailing for air, and my brain for clarity. How could Outlier have captured me? I'd told myself never again. But never was here, and it was too late to hold onto promises I couldn't keep. I had to keep thinking, to keep moving. Was I captured this morning? A couple days ago? I had no idea. Did it matter? It didn't change where I was-as far from safety as I could be.

I let my head fall back onto the table, and the strap dug into my skin as my chest staggered up and down in a pitiful attempt to get enough oxygen back into my lungs. But it wasn't enough air. More than that, I needed to get out. I couldn't be here, not in this godforsaken place. They would not contain me again.

I heard a door open behind me, and I jolted. Footsteps approached the table I lay on.

"You've been gone a while, Twenty-Six," the person said. A man, and he sounded older.

I tried to ease my breathing. This was not a place to show weakness.

"Unfortunately, all of the doctors who treated you before are either dead after your little tantrum at the last compound you were in, or they have been relocated to other facilities. I have been given the pleasure of dealing with your case. I handled one of your Skrull friends, too. Malon, was it? He could've been a singer with the projection of his screams."

With little _thwips_, metal switches clicked into place behind me, the sudden noises further unsettling me.

"I always bring sound-proof headphones to these type of things, though. I wouldn't want to damage my eardrums during these sessions."

"Don't," I spat out.

"Don't what?"

The tears filling my eyes watered down the venom in my words: "Don't you touch me."

"I don't take orders from traitors. Especially not when they have information we need. My superiors want to know what intelligence you've managed to collect from us. The other Skrulls you've sent in knew frustratingly little, but they all pointed you out as the boss. They told us that you know every bit of information S.H.I.E.L.D. has about Outlier, while your Skrull friends only knew what pertained to their missions. So, tell me what you know, and you won't have to deal with this... unpleasantness."

"Go fuck yourself. Outlier doesn't own me anymore."

He laughed. "Of course it does. You're here, aren't you? Outlier never leaves us, especially not after we've spent so much of our lives doing things for the organization. You know that."

He rolled a chair next to my table, and sat down on it. I was right-he was older. Late fifties to mid-sixties, it seemed, if his wrinkled face and grey-white hair were any indication. His face may have looked kind, but the ice in his eyes destroyed any such delusion.

"So. What information do you have for me?" he asked.

I resolutely stared at him, refusing to give an answer.

"Let me narrow that down for you. Just before we captured Sarin, she sent you a file. What was in it?"

_The codes_, I remembered, and I saw a glimpse of hope. All I had to do was survive until S.H.I.E.L.D. sent in someone else to deploy the codes. But I could not let Outlier find out about them.

"Standard information. Where Andrea Kathan would be that night, and when I needed to be there."

It wasn't a complete lie.

"We know the file contained more information than that," he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why people lie, but it doesn't really matter. They'll be resistant to answer, but only until they start hurting."

"Don't you dare," I warned him, but it was an empty threat, and we both knew it.

He reached behind me to grab and put on a pair of soundproof headphones. The noises he'd want to block out… my stomach twisted at the thought. But he grabbed an open laptop, too, and my chest skipped a beat. If I could just incapacitate him long enough to hack into his computer, everything would be in my hands.

He pressed a few keys, and the cuffs around my ankles and wrists emitted a needle into my skin. All at once, a deep, searing pain flooded my nerve endings. I violently trembled, and my legs writhed as my skin ignited in a violent fire, but I knew it was only the drug. A million fireworks exploded underneath the confines of my skin, just testing how incombustible the very fabric of my being really was. Static cracked all around my skull, overloading my hearing with the unforgiving clamor. The cacophony in my head spread down past my chest into my stomach.

But something was different. The pain was just as strong as before, but it wasn't covering my entire body. My head, stomach, and legs took the brunt of the torture while my chest dully ached. My arms and shoulders felt nothing. It seemed this was the advantage I had last time I was subjected to this-fewer nerve endings, so less pain.

Invisible knives still stabbed into me, bullets fired inside my skull, little blazes scorched my organs, and my skin ripped itself off my muscles, but I embraced the pain. My screams burned my throat, and yet… I wasn't giving in. I always had before at about this point, but as the minutes passed, I still managed to stay strong. Somehow, my laughter at the situation cut through my horrendous shrieking.

It seemed my laughing was enough to catch the man off guard, and he brought me off the drug. Within a minute, only a heaviness from the drug lingered. Though my tear-stained cheeks burned from being forced into the same position by the screaming and gasping for air, I managed to grin.

"I told you... you don't own... me anymore," I coughed.

"What was in the file?" the man asked again.

"Nothing I haven't already told you."

He restarted the process, and a fresh wave of horrors swept through me. This time, he stopped it before I could compose myself, but I was still okay, all things considered.

"You're going to lose," I promised him with another dark laugh.

Over and over again, my body was torn apart from the inside, but it wasn't until the days passed me by that my laughter faded and I realized I was playing a game neither of us could possibly win.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A couple years ago, though recovered from trying to incinerate both the Outlier compound and myself, I began to dread nights. At night, everything was dark, and I was hidden away in my room, always waiting for the next nightmare to clutch me. I was always alone, far away from Nat, whom I wasn't even close to yet.

The nights were like that at first. After the infinitely-long first day of the man trying to coerce some bits of useful information of me, I was pried off the table by agents much larger than me. They dragged my limp body throughout the halls, my wrists and ankles still cuffed. Other than my weakness, the only evidence of my torture was where the cuffs had been. Around each wrist and ankle was a sore, red, bloody band where the cuffs dug into my skin as I'd screamed and strained against my restraints. No one had bothered to wash off the blood, let alone clean out the cuts or dress the wounds. But that's the way it was at Outlier. Nobody cared about you there. Why would they? Before, I was a weapon. Now, I was a locked cabinet of dangerous secrets that they were trying to crack open. Either way, they were sure to treat me like I was expendable, just another resource they could easily replace. No one had any worth here, least of all me.

The agents carried me into a tiny room, with only a bed with an even thinner mattress pushed into a corner, a dirty toilet and sink, and a camera on the ceiling. The only light came from the hallway. They dropped me onto the bed next to a plate of stale food and locked the door behind them, leaving me to rot in the pitch black room. I stayed still for a long time. Hell, I was too tired to think, let alone move. But eventually, I ate what food seemed edible and curled up on the mattress in a tight ball to protect myself against the cold.

I expected the nights to feel the same again as they had after I thought I'd destroyed Outlier-dark, freezing, and terribly lonely-and it was true at first, but only when I was awake. I lay there for hours, wondering what would happen to me when the codes were used. Would I be in here, trapped in the dark for days before someone finally found me? Even worse, what if I was in the middle of being tortured, and no one would be conscious to stop the drug? I might not even be alive by that point. My thoughts ate away at me down to the bone, and I felt naked. I was exposed and I was vulnerable and I was a million things I'd once told myself I'd never be. The broken promises piled on top of one another, smothering me and stealing the air out of my lungs until I finally fell asleep.

I thought nightmares would plague me, but they didn't. I found a new world in my dreams-a world I could run around in all I wanted to, a world of mine that I controlled and made my own, a world drastically different from the one I was trapped in. I wasn't alone there; I had people-my people. There, Nat and Faraji were alive. I ate dinners everyday with Brunnhilde and spent lazy afternoons and nights with Loki. I played back the good memories of the past few years, clinging onto anything that could drag my thoughts away from the horror I was living in. But I kept returning to one memory in particular, night after night, to a place that told me what I had to fight for, even if I was nowhere near being in the condition to fight.

_As long as you have something to hold onto, Outlier cannot control you. And though you may not have much, you have yourself. You have me_, Loki's words echoed in my mind.

So I hung onto them, repeating the words over so much that they were still there when I woke. I was not Outlier's doll to throw around and abuse. They would not control me as long as I had these memories, these bits of every person I'd met, and everything I'd gone through that'd made me into a person who wouldn't give in again, even if it ruined me. But no one ever told me how hard it was to keep myself alive in this place when everyday I lost more and more of myself to the agony of living.

"What do you know about Outlier?" my torturer asked me.

Well with a question as vague as that, he couldn't honestly expect me to think I'd answer him straight-up.

"It's a group of hidden terrorists run by a clusterfuck of tyrannical assholes," I droned on.

_5...4...3...2… _I flinched at _one_ and pain speared my body at _zero_, just long enough for me to nearly forget the last five minutes.

I coughed viciously as I rode out the latest phase of torment. It seemed my lungs wanted to join in on the fun of the roller coaster of pain the rest of my body was on.

"Did you ever gain any intel on these so-called 'tyrannical assholes?'"

I turned to him with a deranged look in my eyes to match the crazy grin on my face. "I killed one of them," I crooned and continued on in a sing-song voice. "Benjamin Russey. I captured another one too-Kathan. I bet you all weren't too happy with me about that."

I knew she was never a leader of Outlier, but amongst the useless information I gave him everyday, I liked to slip him a bit to make him think I had faulty intelligence. Maybe doing that made me seem even more expendable, but what was the point in caring?

Injection, wave of pain, gasp for air, and recover. It was all the same, every day.

But that time, it lasted longer. He kept pushing and pushing and pushing, trying to shove me past my breaking point. I screamed louder and deeper, and the pain… oh the pain. It was a crescendo roaring stronger with every passing moment, forcing me into a state of near-delirium. I shrieked one last time, and as the scream faded into a wheeze, a piece of me broke apart. It fell down, down, down, until it finally landed in my lungs. I tried to breathe around the shard, but it pierced through the organ's wall. I was being choked by my own defeat, and my breathing became raspy. I just wanted to lie down in a soft bed and drift away into nothing.

It was tempting, oh-so tempting, just to stop all this. I could say one word and this would come to an end. I'd tell them everything I knew, and then what? They'd never set me free. Maybe they would just kill me. I didn't even care what they did to me, as long as it wasn't this.

I looked over at my torturer, the desperation in my eyes begging for a reprieve. Mercifully, he stopped the drug, and I had a moment to recuperate.

"Are you ready to talk?"

I opened my mouth to say _yes_, but I had no words left to speak.

_How could you?_ I accused myself. _Do you remember nothing? You said you wouldn't let them win._

_I said a lot of things, but look what happened-I_ failed_, _another part of me answered.

_Taking down Outlier comes first. It comes before giving up. Don't stop fighting now._

_I have nothing left to fight with, or even to fight for! I've lost everything._

But had I? I still had myself, even if nothing else. I could only control so much, but this was something I was capable of keeping safe. In my mind, I saw Loki and Brunnhilde and Faraji-all the people I'd lost when Outlier took me.

Rage pooled within me, and a rush coursed through my veins. Raw energy pulsed inside me, ramming against the underside of my skin. Every thought and feeling turned to molten anger, becoming hotter and hotter, and when I saw a spark snap out of my fist, I thought I was hallucinating.

But I opened my fist, and slowly, my cuffs began to split open. My powers trudged through an invisible blockade, but with one final crack, the cuffs broke. A weight fell off me, and unfiltered power consumed me. I sat up and turned toward my torturer, a monstrous grin spreading across my face. As I slid off the metal table, he stood up from his chair and stumbled backward. I followed him until I had him backed up against a wall, and I punched him in the jaw. He doubled over, grasping his face, leaving me to just smirk over him.

"I told you not to touch me, and you did anyway. I told you Outlier didn't own me, and you laughed, just to spite me. You tried to destroy me, and you failed. You have no power over me anymore."

I formed a ball of fire and plunged it into his chest. When I stepped away, he was keeled over on the floor, finally unable to hurt anyone else.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Over the last couple weeks, I kept imagining the codes would be used, and I'd break out. Every night in between the nightmare of being awake and falling into my dreamworld, I'd trained in my cell. I'd done whatever exercises I could in my small room so that if I had the chance, I would be strong enough to escape. I'd be safe again. But for as much as I'd wanted Heimdall to open the Bifrost or for some S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or even Loki to somehow rescue me, I knew I'd always saved myself before, and this time was not an exception.

I glanced up at the ceiling and flung a scrap of the cuffs into the eyes of the cameras in the room. As the glass shards fell around me, I ripped the last few shards of the cuffs off the table and wrapped them around the door handles to keep everyone out.

I ran over to the laptop next to the chair, and my fingers flew across the keys as I finally hacked into Outlier's mainframe. Muscle memory kicked in, and I searched in the back of my mind for the codes.

It took longer than I thought it would-I'd imagined this moment again and again in my dreamworld. I hacked into and accessed the hidden pockets in the mainframe. Places where, if you didn't know what you were looking for, you wouldn't be able to find them. Perhaps it was the thought of running out of time that crept up my neck, or just a lack of practice, but I felt like I was going too slow.

Within a couple minutes, I heard agents banging on the doors, trying to knock it down.  
"Go the fuck away," I said in a sing-song voice, and I started sweating even though the room was freezing.

As I kept typing, the hallway outside grew silent. I paused for a moment, staring at the doors as though they would magically open at any given moment when I heard a low humming noise from outside the room. It was like an engine slowly revving up, but before I could brace myself, a huge ball of flame shot through the doors.

"Shit!" I shouted as the fireball flew past me and exploded against the wall.

I dropped to the floor in a crouch, my back to the debris showering down on me, and I bent over the laptop to protect it. I was too close to stop now.

The agents started streaming in, and I stood up again. With the laptop in one hand, I wrenched the metal table from its bolts on the floor, and I whirled around with it, careening it toward the agents. As soon as they collided, bodies crunched and slumped to the ground in the entryway, but more came in after them. I glanced behind me where the fireball had lodged itself to see fire racing across the wall. Smoke unfurled throughout the room, and I slid to the ground again. I was the only one low enough on the ground to not be too affected by it, whereas the incoming agents starting coughing as they entered. With a flick of my hand, I swung the broken steel doors against the agents-hard enough to drop them on impact.

But the agents kept coming in, despite the heavy smoke and my onslaught of metal flying projectiles. In an instant, I was hopelessly surrounded, and I held my hand up. Fire erupted out of my palm, viciously attacking the agents, and my ears rang with pain-stricken screams. Then I kept typing, and just as another wave of unscathed agents came in, I hit the last key.

Every single one of them stiffened for a moment, and then they collapsed one by one, making the entire room shake. The largest only lasted a few seconds longer than the smallest of the agents. I reached out with my hand to extinguish the fire, and I breathed out in relief at the sea of fallen bodies.

At the same time, the mainframe automatically shut down, and I sent Director Fury a message telling him what had happened. The remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would be dispatched immediately to each of Outlier's compounds for detainment.

It was over.

I was free.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I slumped, my entire body heavy from exhaustion I hadn't realized I'd been fighting. I typed a few more keys on the computer that I still held, and another transmission was sent through.  
"Eira?" Nick Fury asked. He looked different than I remembered, but I guessed that was just the effect of not seeing someone for months.

"My mission is complete. Outlier is incapacitated," my voice cracked at the last word, and tears stung at my eyes at the relief.

I looked at myself in the video call. There were a couple scratches on my face, and a deeper one on the side of my head bled so much that my hair-slick with grease for days of not showering-was nastily matted against it. I touched the deep cut with my fingers, and it stung for the first time. I hadn't even noticed it in the chaos. Deep purple bags hug under my eyes, a disturbing contrast to my paleness sunken-in cheeks. I was a shell of myself, whittled away to the bare bones of life.

"What? I didn't even know you were alive."

"I sent the first message seconds before I called you. Maria Hill should know by now. You'll have to deploy your people to detain the agents. I don't know exactly what you're going to do with all of them, but it's not my problem anymore. It's over. I'm done."

I saw myself smile. My lips were cracked and pallid, but it was my first genuine smile in… well, I didn't know how long.

"How are you alive? How did you do this?"

"I'll tell you another time. For now, I'm going home. How… how long has it been?"

"You were captured three weeks ago."

"And the pilot?"

"He was dead when we found him."

"Oh," I hung my head.

I heard a beeping from his end of the transmission, and he turned.

"Motherfucker," he whispered as he watched something I couldn't see.

"What happened?"

"I'm sending you this now."

He typed for a few seconds, and a video came through on my end. It was footage of a few closely-grouped, beautiful islands covered with buildings, except one, which was partly filled with trees. On that island, a silver machine stood at the edge of the havoc. It rested on greatly disturbed sand on the coast, and away from it, a huge wave headed for the largest and most populated island. In the other direction, fire spread through the trees and all over the streets. Down the island's main road, a huge crack split the concrete, and more cracks splintered out of that.

"What _is_ that?" I asked.

"It's a machine."

"I've gathered that. _Whose _is it?"

But I knew whose it was. Its features were nearly identical to those laid out in the blueprints Atun had obtained months ago. If I was right, then why was it going off now?

"I don't know for certain, but when I received the report seconds ago, it said the machine's source came from a device in close vicinity to where you are now, at about the same time as you shut everything at Outlier down. So your question should be, 'what the hell did I

do?'"

I froze.

"I didn't do anything other than shut down the system and its operatives. Nothing else. I can't even access the mainframe anymore. When I shut it down, _everything_ went down."

"Well _something_ happened, Eira," Fury snapped at me.

I searched through my brain to try to remember if anything had gone wrong.

"I don't know…. The only explanation that makes sense is if there was a failsafe put into place. If the mainframe was destroyed, and Outlier couldn't recover, then this way, they could still leave their mark-keep going even after it's over."

"Sick sons of bitches," he cursed, and started typing again. "I'm sending a drone to shoot it. It won't be able to fuel anything, but it won't stop the waves, fire, or earthquake from spreading."

"If I were there, I could stop it, but I won't be able to get there fast enough," I rambled, my hands shaking. "It's my fault, but I could do it. I could," I said, as though I had something to prove.

I'd been so close, and I did even more damage. _Again_. Every time, I fucked up more and more. The thoughts came raining in, colliding and screaming, completely paralyzing me. I buried my head in my hands, palms firmly pressed against my ears.

I heard Director Fury speaking, but I couldn't process a word he said. His words passed straight through me like a phantom.

_Breathe. I'm here. You're safe._

I looked up at the sound of Loki's voice, but of course, no one was there. He was in my head, but not here. Never with me.

_Why would you say that? I never left you, just as you never left me. I'm here, _Loki said softly.

He was here. I was safe.

I took a breath, and realized what I had to do.

"Director Fury, it's been an honor knowing and working for you," I told him.

"What? "

"I am going to deal with this, and in order to do so, I must go. You'll understand in a few minutes if all goes well. Thank you for giving me the chance to fix this."

Before he could answer, I ended the transmission and started moving. I lifted both my hands to the ceiling and blasted a hole straight through it, several floors up until I'd made my own skylight. I pointed both palms at the floor, and I controlled the winds to create a buffer of air underneath my body. I flew up through all the floors of the facility, ignoring the piles of bodies around me as I went, until I reached the roof.

I squinted painfully as I breathed in fresh air for the first time since my capture. A hand over my eyes, I shouted, "Heimdall!"

Finally, he answered, and within moments, the familiar iridescent lights enveloped me. I shot through the sky, marveling at all the beauties around me, and in a few more seconds, I walked out.

"Welcome back, my lady," Heimdall called from the middle of the room. "I take it you would like to go back?"

I glanced out of the entry hall down the bridge at Asgard, gleaming in all its glory. Loki was surely in his rooms, reading peacefully, and for just a moment, I imagined walking away from all this to him. I'd find him sitting on one of his couches, and he'd glance up, delighted to see me. I'd curl up next to him while he held me tight, tell me he missed me and that he was so relieved I came back safe. We'd just be there together in that moment, away from the chaos of the world, and everything would be just fine.

My heart squeezed as I realized the decision that I had to make. Live out that intoxicating fantasy with Loki, regret haunting my every passing moment, or finish unwriting this final sin, just as I'd done with all the others that'd been etched into my skin with flame-those sins that always reminded me of what my true fight was. I was so close to the two things I wanted most, but I could only choose one.

I looked away.

"'Want' isn't quite the word I'd use, but yes," I quipped, though the heaviness in my voice stole any humor from the words.

He turned the sword in its pedestal, and I kept talking.

"Heimdall, for once, don't watch what is about to happen. And don't let Loki or Brunnhilde or anyone else I love see… don't let them see my body after all this is over."

"Understood, my lady."

I nodded and took a half-step toward the Bifrost's opening, but I stopped myself.

"One more thing. Tell him… tell Loki that I love him, and that I'm sorry, but that we're both going to be okay," I sniffed. "I don't regret a moment of it."

I landed on the shoreline in the heart of the disarray. Thrown by the quakes, sands whipped against my legs. Even though I stood twenty feet away from the nearest flames, the shrieks I heard made me feel as though I were standing in the middle of the fire-consumed streets. Out in the open water was a cataclysmic wave, reaching up at least a dozen stories, set to wipe the thousands and thousands of buildings off the island it was approaching. I could almost see the people there clutching their families in their distant white-walled and red-roofed homes. And several yards away from me on the beach stood a large metal prism that pierced the ground with its interlocking legs. That was the source of the insanity. Flames barrelled out of one side of the machine, while the base of it shook the ground and forced the water into that wave.

My stomach sank at the odds against me, but I planted myself, even as the ground shook beneath me.

I lifted up one hand to the machine, and the other to the wave. I just barely held back the immense surge of water from tipping over onto the nearby island as I raised my opposite hand. With the movement, I ripped the machine from the ground, high above the beach. I balled my hand into a tight fist, and then opened it as if I were flinging something off my palm. In suit, the machine compacted itself into a ball, the metal scraping terribly as it was crushed, and then it exploded into millions of tiny pieces.

By the time the metal scraps had fallen into the surf, I'd already refocused my attention to the hell around me. With the hand stretched out to the sea, I eased the tidal wave down and away from the island while I used the other to smother the flames. My arms and fingers moved in an intricate dance that only the blaze, water, and I understood. I buried my feet into the shifting sands, and tremors rocked from my hips down to the damp ground beneath my toes, coaxing the land to stop its shaking.

When I fell, I didn't stop. Like every day in the last few weeks, I endured it all.

I sowed the ground back together, undoing the fractures that'd formed, as my legs tore themselves apart. Bones splintered clear through flesh and tendons snapped so hard that I heard their cracking well over my wheezing screams.

I calmed the water to a stand-still, so tranquil that no one would have ever known the nearby island was almost swallowed by a wave just minutes before. But as I'd steadied the sea, my harshly-compressed lungs filled with liquid, drowning myself from the inside.

I snuffed out all the flames, and as I drew the fire away from the streets and back to the beach, the blaze burned the only thing left to destroy-me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Loki

A gleam shone in the corner of his eye, and Loki glanced up from his book to see the Bifrost open. He would've returned to his book and the moment of peace he'd managed to find in the early morning on his balcony, but something drew him away from that. The Bifrost was open for too long-at least a full minute-and that usually only meant peril. If the bridge weren't closes quickly, then it would begin to destroy the world it had gone to. Someone must have attacked Heimdall, and that was why it didn't close sooner. Even once it had closed, no one walked across the bridge to the mainland, and after minutes of waiting for a hazy silhouette to emerge from the Bifrost's gathering room, Loki set down his book, picked up his cloak, and left his rooms.

Deep unease settled in his chest, and he raced downstairs to the stables. In his hurry, he nearly ran over the stablemaster with a beautiful black mare, but Loki barely looked back. He urged his mare faster and faster down the bridge, his panic completely engulfing him.

He jumped off the horse and charged inside the dome, knives hidden up his sleeves, to find Heimdall, alone and unharmed.

"What happened?" Loki demanded.

Heimdall had been looking down at his clasped hands, as though he were in the middle of a prayer when Loki walked in, and he only looked up once Loki shouted at him. Somehow, Heimdall was able to meet Loki's eyes, but he wasn't truly looking at him. When Loki saw the darkness and weight in his old friend's amber eyes, a profound silence filled him, unexplained yet perfectly clear at the same time.

"I said, 'what happened?'" Loki repeated, his voice low and gravelly.

"Eira returned," Heimdall said, far too quiet.

Those were the two words Loki had been waiting for since he learned of her capture, and what should've been a moment of undiluted joy was one of dread. She'd disappeared only three weeks before, and normally, that amount of time would've passed like they were hours, but the time had gone by as slowly as it would have for any human.

"Then why isn't she here?"

Heimdall said nothing for a moment before he spoke, clearly trying to choose his words carefully, "After Eira was captured, I told you I couldn't see her, that she was shielded from my gaze. I lied. She was kept in an Outlier compound deep underground the whole time she was gone, far enough away that even the Bifrost couldn't reach her. Today, she escaped and destroyed them in the process, but a failsafe went off-a weapon. It was going to kill millions, and Eira knew that. She told me to take her there, and to tell you that Outlier she was sorry, but both of you were going to be okay. The last thing she told me was that she loves you."

The words hacked away at him, leaving him more broken with every sentence. Anguish engulfed him, but when he finally spoke, he spoke with anger.

"What do you mean, _she_ was sorry? What about you? You could've helped her for _weeks_, yet you had the nerve to tell me she apologized. You let her walk off to die!" Loki's voice cracked, and as it did, the final realization struck him. "She's dead, isn't she?"

His voice was hollow, and just by saying the words, he knew it was true. Heimdall's head was bowed with shame, merely a confirmation of Loki's worst fears. As soon as she'd been captured, Loki knew to expect the worst, but now that the worst had finally come, he couldn't bear it.

His chest caved in, folding in over itself again and again, and the tears began to fall.

"Take me to her."

Heimdall shook his head. "She didn't want anyone she loved to see her in that way."

"I didn't want one of my oldest friends to lie to me for weeks and to only tell me the truth after the woman I loved had died, and yet," Loki gestured around him. "She deserves a proper funeral."

Heimdall resignedly unsheathed his sword and inserted it into the pedestal. Loki refused to look at Heimdall as he passed, and let the lights of the Bifrost shroud him. For the first time in his life, the galaxies and stars shining in space were dim, their brilliance gone. The never-ending black nothingness was the only thing he noticed.

When Loki arrived on Earth, he was greeted by screams. As the clouds that accompanied the Bifrost faded, he noticed he was in the middle of a street. All around him stood burnt buildings and exhausted, scared people. They talked excitedly with one another, all keeping an eye on him as he began walking. He headed down the street in the direction of a large crowd. He pushed through them agitatedly, ignoring their stares, and when he reached the other side of the crowd, he saw what they were looking at. They were gathered on the edge of a beach around a broken and bloody mess. That mess was a person, utterly unrecognizable to anyone else from her wounds, and he wanted to believe it wasn't Eira, but lying wouldn't help him this time.

As he walked to her body, he told himself not to look at her, not to have that be the last image of her he'd ever see, but there was no avoiding it. There was barely an undamaged spot on her.

She lay on her back, her feet stuck in the sand at an unnatural angle. He could see tissue attached to the broken bones that had pierced through her skin and the fabric of her navy jumpsuit in more than a dozen places. Blood had seeped through her clothing all over her body. The flesh still clinging to her right hand was charred down to the bone, except it wasn't exposed bone-it was metal from past operations. Blisters had spread up her neck to her whole head, and all her hair had burned off at the roots. He'd been praying he didn't have to see her lifeless eyes; he wanted to remember her eyes as bright and full of life, as they'd been when she'd been with him. His prayers were answered by some god, but surely a cruel one-even though her too-thin were shut, they'd been blistered closed. Had she continued much longer, he would have been able to see her eyes.

Loki pushed out the stench of burnt flesh wafting off her body and forced down the bile threatening to come up. But he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face and dropping in the sand as he knelt next to her.

"I'm here. You're safe now," he murmured softly to comfort her even though she was long gone.

For what seemed like hours, he stayed by her side, silently crying as he held onto her one unscathed hand. Finally, he straightened and picked her up, and the two were taken by the Bifrost, leaving the bystanders to wonder about them.

That night on Asgard, a boat left the banks of the city. In it rested Eira, dressed in the jade green gown with a golden breastplate she'd worn for the first time so many months ago-her favorite. As the boat was carried away by the currents, several voices filled the night air.

"Eira, I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice, for those that have died the glorious death."

Loki, Brunnhilde, Sif, and the Einherjar stood on the shores as they watched her boat drift away, fading into the darkness until it was only illuminated by the lantern lung on it. An Einherjar looked at Loki in permission, and he nodded solemnly.

At the gesture, the guard dipped an arrow into a small fire, and he shot it with perfect aim. Moments later, the boat erupted in flames, and the last piece of strength Loki had held onto collapsed. He turned to Brunnhilde, and when she saw the empty space in his eyes, she hugged him tight. She certainly hadn't been as close with Eira, but the news of her death still pained Brunnhilde.

"Why did she have to do that?" Loki asked, tears collecting in his eyes once more. "She could've come home. She could've been _safe_, but now…"

"Do you think she could've lived with herself if she hadn't done what she did?" Brunnhilde asked.

Loki stayed quiet. He didn't want to admit she was right. So they both just held one another in a side-hug, with an arm placed on each of their backs, that bit of support the only thing keeping them standing.

"I promised I'd keep her safe," he said quietly as the boat ran over the edge of the sea. As it disappeared, he began to weep. Brunnhilde wouldn't have even known had she not heard his soft yet rugged breaths and felt the sobs rack his body.

"She's safe now," Brunnhilde promised. "I know she is."

Chapter Twenty-Six

(Epilogue)

I tumbled through the undercurrents, over and over again, lost in the deep blue. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't need to. Somehow, I knew I was beyond such trivial things as air. I reached out for a rock, or a branch, or something else to grab to stop myself, but there was nothing but water.

After a long time, I gave up trying to fight, and I just let the water wash over me. Impossibly, I relaxed, letting the currents cleanse me of something heavy and grotesque. With every passing moment, another darkness was wrenched off me and dragged to the depths. I tried to watch the shadows as they went, but I always lost sight of them so quickly. After a while, I hit sand, and the grains scraped my skin raw. Then the water spit me out, throwing me onto a dry shore.

I landed on my stomach, and as I pushed myself off the ground, I coughed, forcing up the water that I'd swallowed. When my lungs and stomach were empty of everything, I felt… cleansed. _Pure_.

I stood up with much more strength than I should have had and froze. _I could stand._

The last thing I remembered was my legs being hopelessly broken and malformed, but they were perfectly healed. I'd been dying.

Was I dead?

I looked around on the beach to see a magnificent castle in the distance and a woman beside me.

"Welcome to Valhalla," she said. I stared in bewilderment at the beautiful woman, with long, golden hair braided down her back. Her warm blue eyes smiled at me, and she held out her hand.

I took it and nearly stumbled.

I _felt _her skin.

"I-I can feel!" I nearly cried. "How? Your-your hands! They're so soft and smooth and I can _feel_ them!"

She beamed at me and drew me into a hug. I was so happy that I hugged her back, this stranger whose hands I could feel.

As I pulled away, my senses came back to me.

"Wait-Valhalla? That's a real place?"

The woman nodded.

"Oh," I realized, and I became eerily calm. "I'm dead, then."

"You are, my dear."

"So if I'm dead, who are you?" I asked cautiously.

"My name is Frigga."

My eyes widened before I could even think to keep my face passive. "You're Loki's mother."

Frigga nodded.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say, but then the words rushed to me all at once.

"He loves you, you know. And he regrets what happened on the day you died. When he said you weren't his mother, he wasn't telling the truth. You were his mother, his family, when no one else was."

She smiled. "Oh dear, I know he does. And I can see why my son loves you too," she laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"You just died and washed upon the shores of Valhalla, and the first thing you did when you realized who I am was to tell me how he really felt on the day I died because he couldn't. You knew him well."

"I did," my heart twisted, and I rubbed my hands together both to comfort myself and to revel in the fact that I could feel again. "I have so many questions. How did I get here? How can I feel? And you-why are you here? Did you know I'd be here? How did you even know Loki loved me?"

She laughed again. "Come. Walk with me."

Frigga held out her arm to me, I interlocked mine with hers, and she led me off the short beach to a path that led to the castle. I looked down at the beach underneath our feet, and I noticed I was wearing the emerald green dress with a golden breastplate Loki had given me so long ago. Frigga was wearing a similar dress, with rich blue silk under her silver breastplate and metal plates on her shoulders.

"You sacrificed yourself so millions could live. You died a warrior's death, so you were brought by the river of the afterlife to Valhalla. When the river brought you, it cleansed you of all the horrors life was cruel enough to give you, and it gave back what was stolen from you. That is why you can feel again, even though you're dead.

"As to how I knew about you and my son's relationship, well, I was raised by witches. I was taught to see without my eyes, deep into the universe. I check up on both my sons from time to time to make sure they are well. And in doing such, I learned about you. I kept an eye on you, too, and I saw you die. I wanted to be the one to greet you when you arrived," Frigga looked me in the eye. "Loki has always been blind about himself, but you helped him see who he truly was. You taught him what I never could, and for that, I thank you. I only wish you were still there with him. In these next few years, he will want you more than ever-the woman he loved-by his side. He would've wanted to marry you one day, I think, if you weren't human. Of course, he loved you no less for being human, but he would have outlived you far too soon."

The path turned into a small forest, alive with birdsong and the chirping of crickets.

"Before I was captured and I learned I was being deployed, I couldn't bring myself to tell him what I was going to do. But I don't think he would've taken it well either way."

"No, he would not have," she agreed matter-of-factly, but not unkindly.

"He'll be okay without me though, right? He'll find someone else who makes him happy?" I asked her, and as much as it pained me to think of him with another person, I knew it was what I wanted for him. I wanted him to be happy-even if I wasn't there.

"I think so. Certainly not today or tomorrow, but someday."

"Good."

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but she saw me and spoke before I could.

"Your mind is too busy, dear. Your fight is over now. Rest."

As much as I wanted to keep asking more questions, I relented. We walked silently, and as we left the small wood, I allowed myself to take in the beauty of Valhalla. The sky was turning orange from the sunset over the river, and the castle seemed to glow coming out of it. The evening was quiet and calm, and while I wasn't perfect, I was content.

Finally we approached the castle, and we walked in through the main entryway into a giant hall, filled with row after row of people drinking and laughing merrily.

"It's like it is back on Asgard," I whispered to Frigga, and she grinned, but she wasn't looking at me.

She waved to someone in the distance and turned to me, delight dancing in her eyes. "There's someone I think you'd like to see."

Out of the festivities walked a woman with stunning red hair and an even more entrancing smile, and next to her, a dark-skinned boy in his late teens.

_Nat and Faraji._

Nat wrapped her arms around me tightly, and I melted into her.

"Damn, I've missed you," Nat said, her voice slightly muffled by my hair.

"I missed you, too. Both of you," I added, as I pulled back to hug Faraji.  
"Welcome home, Eira," Faraji told me as we embraced. I peeked over his shoulder at Frigga and Nat and everyone else, I thought he was right-this was home.

Over the years, as I welcomed back old friends, I thought must be right.

But millennia later when the man I'd fallen in love with all those years ago wrapped his arms around me like a beloved, old friend, I knew he was right.


End file.
